The Sleep of the Just
by Bleu-Marine-2
Summary: It should never have been, but it happened anyway, and neither Syd nor Weiss are complaining… How SWeiss could -should- have happened... S3 after Crossings - AU - SWEISS - COMPLETE - Check out Silver Feather, the M-rated companion piece to this story...
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: It should never have been, but it happened anyway, and neither Syd nor Weiss are complaining…

**Spoilers**: S3, After Crossings, once Sydney is back in her new apartment. A few elements from After Six.

**Endless author's notes and disclaimer**: Eric Weiss rules! Thank you, Greg, for bringing him to life the way you did! High Five! And thank you Jennifer Garner for having impersonated feminine grace and vulnerability set in ironclad strength of character and powerful moves. You make believe in feminine heroism. I dedicate to both this modest contribution to enrich the fabric of the Alias Alternate Universe.

Screenwriters, before you sue me for the pennies I haven't got: remember that this story could only exist because you created the characters (yes, I willingly admit they're not mine!) that made me want to write a fanfic about them. Let's quarrel no more over the subject of who owns what…

Kudos to my extraordinary betas who made this fic all better: Hubby, Imperfectly, Skydreams03, and Prinsage.  
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**Prologue**

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The sheets of water kept on coming down. Hard. Cold.

The walls were fading, trapping her in an a vortex that methodically squeezed all life out of her body.

Loved

Kissed

Never again

Loved...

If only her soul could stop circling the drain...  
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**Part 1: The Zen Art of Cooking for a Friend  


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Eric Weiss was getting antsy.

He'd been home since 4 p.m. It was almost 6 p.m. and he'd spent most of that time in his kitchen. He'd prepared enough pizza dough to last until Monday, if need be. He'd also chopped up all sorts of toppings and shredded his own special blend of cheeses. All of these goodies were now in the fridge, waiting to be cooked when the time came.

The routine was pretty well-established by now.

It usually started with Sydney Bristow, colleague and Spy Girl extraordinaire, going on op. Invariably after that, craziness of one kind or another ensued; Spy Girl did her thing and cheated death yet again, give or take a few abrasions and contusions. Then she would come back to the Ops Center for her debrief.

When that was over, she'd head home, leaving her Spy Girl persona behind. And the other Sydney Bristow, his neighbor, lonely and recently returned from the dead, would ring him. Soon after, he'd go over to her place with a bottle of Chianti or some beer, and a pizza a-la-Weiss. The two of them would rehash her latest adventure. They'd chitchat and laugh about this and that until the wine or beer were gone, or one of them-insert "Syd" here-fell asleep.

It was safe, comfortable fun. It was also very satisfying for him, since he got to do one of his favorite things: be there for a friend.

Right now, he'd just finished reducing a triple batch of tomato sauce laced with his secret ingredients. Since she'd discovered it, Sydney couldn't get enough of the stuff. She'd already tried all sorts of tricks, from bribery to promised torture to tickling, in the hope of getting the recipe out him. But so far, the secret formula remained safely lodged in his head, where he had exclusive access to it. A cook has his reputation to protect.

In all honesty though, he kept his mouth shut because there's nothing like a secret to keep a spy's interest. And he didn't mind enduring Syd's prying if it meant she would concentrate on something other than her abysmal lack of social life since she came back.

He turned off the dial on the stove and stopped to contemplate his work. Pizza dough: check; Sauce and toppings: check; beer in fridge: check. So far, so good. They'd have sustenance to survive the mother-of-all-pow-wow sessions he knew was in store for the both of them tonight.

Now, all that was missing was Syd and the massive mental baggage she'd been carrying around when he'd seen her earlier at the Ops Center.

He'd spotted her as she came directly from the plane, all scratched and bruised. But what he'd really noticed was the interaction between her and Vaughn. If his pretty sharp observation skills hadn't betrayed him, her external injuries only told a small part of the North Korean stint. It figured: facing imminent death with your married-to-someone-else ex-lover… Well, Weiss didn't think there was a self-help book for that one.

God, there were times when being an unattached bachelor with no love life or prospect thereof felt like the epitome of grace...

With an ease born from practice, he began to put some order around the kitchen. Surely, she'd be along any minute now. The corners of his mouth moved up in anticipation.

Whether he would admit or not, Weiss had always had a "thing" for Sydney. Wouldn't have minded showing her one or two of his tricks if Vaughn hadn't stepped in and ruined it for the rest of mankind. No hard feelings though. Once it was clear these two had the stuff of romance books going on between them, Sydney had become as sacred and untouchable as the Holy Grail. Some paths were never meant to be taken, and he had resigned himself to that.

Now, it was best pals all the way, which was fine by him. And since the North Korean debacle was over and everyone was home safe and sound, Weiss had every intention of enjoying each second of Syd's company this evening had to offer. In their line of business, stolen good times were a precious commodity.

Being friends with Sydney wasn't all laughs and parties, though. There were darker times. It had been wonderful having her around again at first. Soon though, his happiness at her return was marred with the sorrow of seeing two of his best friends torn apart by their impossible situation. The pain and heartache Syd and Mike had had to go through. Two years sucked down the drain... Fate could play some seriously sucky jokes sometimes.

Weiss considered himself a rather imaginative guy, but he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around this one. What would it be like to wake up one day and find out that your closest friends were dead or gone, the love of your life was married to someone else, you had no recollection of your whereabouts during said timeframe, nor did you have any possessions left to remind you of who you were, before...

For a moment, he made a conscious effort to concentrate on cleaning the remnants of pizza dough off the kitchen counter top. He wasn't easily spooked, but Syd's situation just gave him the creeps...

It didn't help that he had a starring role in this little soap opera production of theirs. Old pal Mike across town. New pal Syd across the hall. Old friendship barely resisting to the pull of marriage and the return of the prodigal girl. New friendship building on the shaky grounds of loneliness and close proximity. Showdowns every day at the office. Could it get any weirder than this? In an odd way, Vaughn had it somewhat easy…ier. After all, he had Lauren to come home to.

It wasn't like Weiss looked down on Vaughn for the decisions his friend had made. Mike had suffered through agony. He'd made it to the other side and chosen to live when the opportunity had presented itself. He loved his wife, of that Weiss was certain. Maybe not as deeply as he had loved Sydney, but enough to link his life to Lauren's for good. That would never have happened if Vaughn's feelings hadn't been true, no matter how desperate the man might have been for a semblance of normalcy.

It was almost unbelievable that Vaughn had even made it through Sydney's "death" at all, Weiss reflected as he put away the last of the utensils in the dishwasher. He could still hear the desperate sobs his friend had spilled on his shoulder, that damned sunny day by the ocean's edge, two years ago…

Weiss mentally shook himself from the buzz that was taking a hold of him. Time to loosen up, man. The kiddo would probably need an all-night pass to the Weiss House of Laughs very soon. He'd better put his fun man suit on and be ready for a Tony-worthy performance.

…Which reminded him that Syd hadn't called yet.

He stopped moving about the kitchen altogether. Everything was quiet in the building. Even the downstairs neighbors had for once forgone their daily screaming match. Despite his better judgment, Weiss walked to his apartment door and listened. He didn't know how, or why, but some time after Sydney came back, he'd gotten this deranged idea that it was his personal mission to keep an eye on her. It was silly and borderline stalker-of-the-week, but as much as he wished he wouldn't worry about her, he simply couldn't help it.

It was kind of hilarious, when he thought about it. Sydney hardly fit the helpless waif in need of a valiant knight description. In fact, if she knew about the over-protective streak he had developed, chances were she would kick his butt from here to Langley. Still, without giving anything away, he'd been keeping watch on the "apartment across the hall" as he'd nicknamed it. It sounded more clinical, less crazed brother spying on his reckless little sis...

That was how, over the past few weeks, he had learned all of her cues. The clicking of her keys while she opened her door and closed it quietly behind her after a long day. The swooshing and creaking of the wood when she was getting her paper in the morning. And the slamming? Well, after he'd stabilized the dishes in his pantry, he'd worked it out as a dead giveaway she was leaving for a while, ready to take on the world.

He was pretty sure he'd heard her earlier. The keys had been more quiet than usual, but he could still tell it was her, slipping in surreptitiously hoping no one would notice.

Since she was bound to call soon, he'd opened the fridge and put a six-pack on the counter. Had to be ready for the all-night talk...

…That was more than an hour ago. And she still hadn't given any sign of life.

"Dammit, Bristow", he muttered under his breath as he exchanged the tepid six-pack for a cold one. "Don't you pull that clam-in-the-shell crap on me..."

Beer in one hand, keys in his jeans pocket, Weiss got out of his apartment and across the hall. Composing himself to fit his cool man reputation, he braced up, knocked on Agent Bristow's door, and waited for her to open.

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tbc  
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Next time, in Part 2: **A Wake-Up Call**

"Weapon drawn, Weiss checked again behind him and around for a possible intruder. When he saw no one, he put his left hand on the shower stall door and gently pushed..."  
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	2. Chapter 2

I probably should have mentioned that this story was published in another venue (SD1-net) a few years ago. I never had a chance to upload it to Fanfiction-Net. Then I stopped writing for quite a while. But I've gotten back into it. I'm finishing a Vampire Diaries fic which should be published next week, and I'm working on the sequel to the Sleep of the Just. So I thought it would be fitting to publish this story again and have all the fics in one spot. I'll be updating daily (I'm just trying to get used to all the formatting stuff, which is a bit restrictive here.) I hope you enjoy this story again if you've already read it, or for the first time if such is the case. Thank you for reading.

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**Part 2: A Wake-Up Call**

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From far away, Sydney heard something banging. Some noise she couldn't quite make out through the sound of the running shower. It was all very faint as if her ears were filled with cotton...

Didn't matter anyway. Nothing really mattered any longer. Everything was becoming transparent like the water falling on her. She was fading.

No past; no souvenir box; no one to remember her, with all her friends gone… and now, no future.

A resigned ex-lover. A desperate confession. A final kiss.

And all her illusions of somehow, someday, getting her old life back had crumbled under the certainty that this chapter of their lives was forever closed. No matter how much she wished it weren't... No matter how much Michael did too... Their time had come and gone. And it would never be back.

The realization made her heart numb.

All in all, becoming transparent and vanishing sounded like the best option, the only logical one...

Her body shivered without her conscious mind registering it. Instinctively, she moved away from the cold shower stream and into the corner.

Maybe if she waited long enough, she would just melt and wash away. Every cell would be gone, dispersed, and with them all the cruel prickles of pain would dematerialize. She would cease to feel. Maybe.

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"Bristow? Syd?"

He knocked for the fourth time, harder. Maybe she was in her bedroom and didn't hear him?

No answer.

He frowned. His instinct on the alert, he walked back to his apartment, and exchanged the six-pack for his gun. He was back in front of her door in no time. He knocked again.

"Syd?" He called. "Syd, I'm coming in, alright? Don't shoot me or anything…"

The spare key she'd given him was already turning. Quietly, he stepped inside. A quick look around showed nothing was amiss. In a corner, a couple of medium size boxes were still unopened: a rolling cart he'd promised to help her build this weekend.

"Sydney?"

More silence. By now, all sorts of scenarios were playing in his mind: had he been mistaken and she wasn't home yet? No, he was sure he'd heard her. So where was she? A cold sensation of dread flooded his veins. Oh god, she couldn't be…

He was at her bedroom door in an instant. It was ajar. He pushed it all the way and scanned the room. Still no one there and nothing suspicious. He was ready to concede he'd been dreaming her coming home and that he needed to get a life, a real one, when he heard a faint sound coming from the right. The bathroom… He crossed to it and knocked on the closed door.

"Sydney, you in there? Sydney? Syd?"

The cold feeling of dread overcame him again. Without thinking twice, he turned the knob and walked in.

The shower was running. Everything else was silent. Even the exhaust fan wasn't on. There was no steam to evacuate anyway. Through the opaque glass of the shower stall, he could see a darker shadow that looked human. A shadow that was very still, much too low to the ground...

Weapon drawn, Weiss checked again behind him and around for a possible intruder. When he saw no one, he put his left hand on the shower stall door and gently pushed.

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The sight that greeted him couldn't have been more disturbing.

There was no sign of violence, no gory scene, no mayhem to speak of. Nevertheless, Weiss' eyes widened in shock.

There, in the opposite corner, was a shivering body, naked and crouching, head lowered; face hidden behind damp, limp hair. The arms were drawn around the knees; and the knuckles were so white they made the tile on the wall look gray.

It took Weiss a second to grasp whom he was staring at.

As soon as he got over his surprise, he was in motion. In a couple of movements, he put his gun away in his belt behind his back and turned off the icy shower stream. He took the large blue towel that was hanging outside the door and walked into the stall.

Very gently, he crouched down and touched her left hand. "Sydney?" He said in a soothing tone. "Don't be afraid, everything is gonna be fine. Let me take care of everything for you, alright? I'm going to help you out of the shower… Everything is gonna be fine…"

His voice was soft as if he were speaking to a child. His thumb gently caressed her deathly pale hand. Maybe this simple contact would reconnect her with reality? She was so cold, possibly in shock… Her whole body shook in violent tremors at times.

He would have wrapped her in the towel and whisked her away to the bed and under a ton of covers, but this could turn out to be a fatal move for him if she were to snap out of her daze and feel threatened. In the state she was in right now, who knew if she even had a sense that someone was in here with her and trying to help?

After a couple of minutes, he felt her hand relax slightly under the soft strokes.

Carefully, still murmuring reassuring nothings, he placed his other hand where his right one had been and lightly pulled to help her up and away from the wall.

Suddenly, the very fingers he'd been holding lashed out onto his left wrist. For a hair-raising instant, Weiss stood still as he stared back into the unseeing eyes of Sydney Bristow.

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Something was different… She blinked.

Something had changed.

There was no sound anymore.

No. It was a different sound. More familiar.

And something else. Something touching her…

Her reflexes taking over, Sydney seized the object that held her hand and looked up.

It was so strange. She could see, but it didn't make any sense. It was as if her eyesight was disconnected from her brain, and she couldn't name who was in front of her for a friend or a foe.

She stared more intently, trying to make heads or tails of it all…

That's when the sounds became meaningful again. From far, far away, she heard things, soft musical notes that gradually reached her.

"You're alright, Syd, I've got you... Weiss' got your back... I'm gonna get you out of here, everything's gonna be fine… You're not alone, Sydney; you never have to be alone… Good Ol' Eric is here for you. You're gonna make it just fine…"

She took in a sharp breath and all the memories flashed in front of her eyes at once. The mission, North Korea, the death squad, the kiss, the end, and now the cold…

Her body began to shake continuously. She tried to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering too hard.

Alarmed, Weiss decided it was time to move her. She seemed to have come to her senses a bit. Hopefully, it would be enough that she would recognize him as a non-threat and forget to attack. "Sydney, I'm going to put this towel around you and help you to your bed, alright? Do you understand, Sydney? No Kung Fu, ok? Nod if you do."

It was a good thing he didn't expect her to answer with words. She wouldn't have been able to. Her nod wasn't much of a nod either, but apparently it was enough for Eric to understand she was ok with it, because almost immediately, she felt the rough cotton of the towel engulf her, bringing back a semblance of warmth to her shivering body.

In an instant, she sensed herself being lifted and carried away. A moment later, she was lying down and wrapped in what felt like a stiff cocoon made of cloth. Her shakes subsided a little as some heat slowly slipped back into her icy flesh and bones.

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tbc

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Next time, in Part 3: **What Friends Are For…**

"Hang in there, Syd." He said in his most caring voice. "I'll be right back."

He tucked her in a little more and headed towards his apartment in a hurry.

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**Feedback makes me smile! :-D**


	3. Chapter 3

I think I might publish a couple of chapters a day. Otherwise, it's going to take forever to upload it all. Any complaints? I thought not... :-) Enjoy!

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**Part 3: What Friends Are For…**

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Weiss contemplated the slim layers of fabric that covered Sydney. It wouldn't be enough. She had felt like a mass of ice in his arms when he'd transported her to the bed. She would need more than a few covers to warm up.

She seemed to be settling down a little, however. He hoped he could leave her for a few minutes while he gathered supplies to help her out. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sydney, can you hear me?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She tried again. "Yeah…"

He smiled at her, as she looked up at him with tired, vacant eyes. "Hey, Ariel, welcome back. You sure scared the bigibies out of me for a moment back there… That's not good for my blood pressure, you know."

The corner of her mouth moved up ever so slightly.

"Listen, if you're ok for now, I'm gonna go get a few things settled, alright?"

"…'kay," she whispered, her eyes closing as her body started to shake again.

"Hang in there, Syd." He said in his most caring voice. "I'll be right back."

He tucked her in a little more and headed towards his apartment in a hurry.

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In under five minutes, Weiss had gathered the heat packs he used when he skied, a bunch of towels he'd sprayed with water and heated up in the microwave, and even a hot water bottle. How he'd ended up with the last item made him smirk briefly. It was his mother who had insisted he take it along, a couple of years ago; according to her, it was the ultimate cure to everything. He'd never used it, of course, but he'd also never had the heart to throw it out. At least now, he knew why…

Back in Sydney's apartment, he surrounded her with the warm towels. Briskly, he tore the heat packs out of their plastic enclosure in order to activate them. He placed them between the towels on her torso and at her feet. The task wasn't easy, as Sydney's body was racked by sudden shakes she had no control over. But eventually, he got her mostly wrapped up in warmth and tucked under the doubled-over comforter he'd also brought from his place.

The water bottle was a little more complicated. After her stint in the shower, it seemed Sydney had temporarily deprived their small building of hot water.

Weiss walked to the living room and into the kitchen. At the sink, he filled the large kettle Sydney usually used for her tea. Hurriedly, he put the kettle on the stove and cranked the dial up to "high."

He went back to the bedroom and started rummaging through her clothes, looking for something warm and with a lot of coverage. He found jogging pants and a matching sweater. In another drawer, he picked out pair of wool socks. Soon, the towels would cool down. Sydney would need to change in order to stay warm. Hopefully by then, she'd be well enough to change into the sweats and socks by herself. If not… Well, he'd cross that bridge if and when...

In the kitchen, the kettle whistled. Weiss was there immediately. He filled the water bottle up with the boiling liquid. When he was done, he screwed the cap back on it. He opened the cabinet above the sink and took a mug and a tea bag from the cookie jar where Sydney kept her favorite: Earl Grey. He put the tea bag in, poured the remainder of the boiled water over top, and turned off the dial on the stove.

Armed with the tea and water bottle, he made his way back to the bedroom and its occupant. Sydney seemed a little better. Her complexion had lost its ashen tone. She opened her eyes at the sound of the mug hitting the hard surface of the coaster on her nightstand.

"Hey…" She smiled feebly.

"Hey to you too…" Weiss quipped gently. "Syd, can you sit up and put these sweats on?"

She nodded without energy.

"… think I can manage." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Atta a girl..." Weiss cooed with a smile.

He helped her sit up on the edge of the bed. Putting the sweatshirt on was easy. Sydney took care of that while Weiss put the socks on her feet. The pants presented more of a challenge. Sydney's back was stiff from its long immobilization earlier and she had trouble bending down far enough. In the end, it was Weiss who put them through her legs. He then turned around to give her some privacy while she briefly stood up and finished pulling the pants up around her waist.

She sat back down. She was shivering again. Quickly, Weiss took out all the discarded wet towels and the top sheet. He helped Sydney lie down and covered her up, not without sprinkling her body with heat packs and putting the hot water bottle in her arms.

When he was done, all Weiss could see was Sydney's tired face half-hidden behind the fat, doubled-over white comforter and various piled-up covers.

He smiled at the sight, happy to see her more relaxed and with a slight blush slowly gaining coverage of her pale features. "How are feeling, Syd? Gotta tell you: love the Michelin guy look on you," he joked softly, hoping to get another pale smile out of it. He wasn't disappointed. "Are you warm enough?" He enquired, trying to keep the worry out of his tone.

"Getting there." She looked up at him. Her brain was slow working, fogged up with fatigue and muted, persistently dark feelings. But she was aware enough to see all the trouble Eric was going to. Her right hand snaked out from underneath the comforter, looking for one of his to hold. Weiss took the still icy fingers between his warm paws. "Thank you, Eric. I don't know wh…"

"Hush." He said while putting a finger near his lips. "You can thank me later with ridiculously large gifts. But right now: no talking and no moving. Just resting and warming up those digits, ok? Are you hungry?"

She frowned slightly. "I don't know…"

"Well, here's some tea to help you warm up. Careful," he added as she sat up half-way and brought the mug he was holding for her to her lips, "it's pretty hot."

After she had a few sips, she laid back down, almost exhausted by the effort. She was beginning to feel a little warmer. Her back, however, was still very cold.

Weiss got up and left the room for a moment. When he returned, he gave Sydney a couple of butter cookies and he put the remainder of the pack on the nightstand, by the tea mug. "Here. A little sweet goodness to make you feel aaall better…"

She munched on one of them, and put the other one back as a slight bout of nausea came over her.

"How do you feel?"

"Like blood is starting to run through me again… except for my back…"

"Sit up for a minute, will you..."

Sydney did so while holding on to the covers in the front. Weiss moved closer and started rubbing her back with a lot of energy. Within minutes, the blood flow was accelerated and the sensation of cold was mostly gone.

"Better?" Weiss asked as he helped her lay back down.

"Much. Thanks. God, I'm so sor…"

"Hush! You're not very good at following directives, are you, Agent Bristow?"

She smiled. Not a fully dimpled happy smile, but one that had more color than any of the others so far. "Not if they're unreasonable, no."

He grinned. It was good to see some life back in her eyes. "Well, if you can spare me for a few minutes, I'm gonna go to my place for a bit. Be back in 20, ok?"

"Ok."

He smiled at her one last time and squeezed her right hand that had somehow found its way out from under the covers again. Then he was up and he quickly disappeared through the door.

Too drained to stay awake, Sydney was asleep within seconds. She didn't even see Weiss come back to check on her one last time before heading towards his apartment.

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tbc

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Next time, in Part 4:** Aftershocks**

"Whatever the hell had happened, it was very bad, Weiss decided…"

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	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4: Aftershocks**

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Whatever the hell had happened, it was very bad.

This was the conclusion Weiss had reached while eating the BLT he'd quickly put together, all thoughts of beer and pizza gone for the night.

Now that the immediate urgency of the situation had passed, he'd had a few minutes on his own to think back to the events of the last couple of hours.

And the same image kept reappearing before his eyes, as if burned on his retina: Sydney looking helpless and haggard, naked and crouching down in a near-fetal position.

The fragility it suggested had shaken him to the core.

Sydney Bristow was one of the strongest people he knew. He'd never seen her "lose it" first hand, though he knew from Mike that there were times when she did. From what he had gathered, the episode usually translated into a good cry and a lot of action-packed hours after that.

But never had he heard about her being so helpless, so close to the breaking point as when he had found her earlier.

It wasn't all that unexpected, though. The girl had lost everything over two years she didn't even remember. Still, if she hadn't been very happy, it had looked like she'd been coping relatively well under the circumstances.

No, something else must have happened. Something that triggered the collapse of the fragile equilibrium she'd reached since her return.

Something like being in North Korea with your ex-lover, facing a death squad…

They must have talked, thinking those were their last moments alive. Things one would never say under normal circumstances. Definitive stuff. The kind that you'd say to ease your conscience. And with his permanent guilt trip, Mike had plenty of that in reserve. Dammit, what the hell did he say to her? It wasn't enough that he'd ruined all her hopes? He wanted to ruin her spirits as well?

Weiss got up and cleaned the remnants of his meal. With angry movements, he put his plate and silverware in the dishwasher. When he was done, he went to his bedroom and exchanged his clothes for dark grey sweat pants, a black CIA training T-shirt and a jeans overshirt. In his bathroom, he ran through his nightly routine. All the while, he kept his thoughts firmly anchored in the present, not wanting to reconsider the accusations that had laced his questions.

It was only when he was ready to head back to Sydney's apartment that he finally admitted to himself he was being both unreasonable and unfair to Vaughn. Even if something had happened, and he was sure it did, Weiss could hardly judge either of his friends by their reactions. Not when they'd thought they were facing imminent death.

Over the past few months, Weiss had carefully considered their predicament and he'd come to one conclusion: it was a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. Whatever Vaughn's decision turned out to be -whether to leave Lauren or stay with her - both he and Syd would end up hating the results… Sydney was right: the original mistake had been Mike's acceptance of her death and his subsequent decision to move on with his life. Yet, one could hardly hold him accountable for trying to make something good out of a terrible tragedy.

As things stood, Weiss couldn't see an end to this demented situation… Time didn't always heal wounds. Vaughn and Sydney's feelings for each other had run too deep to simply give way to the voice of reason. Eventually, their close proximity at work would force them to make a decision about their future, one way or another.

Was that what happened? If it was, the answer wasn't to Syd's satisfaction, that much was clear. She was hurting so bad he didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone for too long.

As he closed his door and crossed the hall, Weiss decided he wouldn't let her out of his sight until he had an answer to what was disturbing her. As his friend, Sydney deserved no less. And no matter how much this might look like meddling, there was just no way he could sit back and watch this car wreck unfold. Losing her once had already been too painful for a lifetime. Losing her twice, when he had the power to do something to prevent it… No way he could allow that.

Not on his watch.

.*.*.

.*.*.

.*.*.

When he got back into the bedroom, Sydney was still asleep. Her slumber, however, was far from restful. She was moving her head back and forth, as if in the throes of a bad dream.

Weiss took a chair and placed it next to the bed. Gently, he put her right hand in his. It felt much warmer at last. With his voice, he tried to soothe her back to a more peaceful state. "Hey Syd. Shhh, it's ok, you're safe. You're safe. It's only a dream…"

Moments later, she calmed down a little. Weiss took the opportunity to scan the room for whatever could make his chair more comfortable for the night.

He got up and gathered a few pillows. In the living room, he found a throw on the sofa. He took it to the bedroom and draped the chair with it, making a cozy little alcove where he could spend the long hours to come in relative comfort.

He sat back down, satisfied that he'd be able to put in a few winks. When he was settled, he took Sydney's hand back in his. Absentmindedly, he stared at the slight fingers and started stroking their deceiving softness with his thumb. A few blue veins raised her skin in places, blood gently pulsating through…

So fragile behind her formidable armor, he reflected…

He blinked a few times and let out a low, prolonged sigh of relief as his mind concentrated on the tangible proof that Sydney Bristow would live another day.

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tbc

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Next time, in Part 5: **The Bewitching Hour**

"Hey, you ok?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "Just… empty…" She lowered her eyes to hide the fresh tears that were pooling there. She didn't want to ask him for more help when he'd already gone above and beyond the call of friendship. But she wasn't sure she could manage on her own right now…

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**Mucho feedback, much posting :-)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Last of the "small" chapters. Most of the next chapters are much longer. I hope you're enjoying it. I had so much fun writing this story. Originally, I wrote it because I couldn't find a SWeiss story I liked. It was either too much of this or too little of that. But never quite what I imagined. I wanted these two to come together in a believable way. **

**And I wanted to do justice to Eric, because I love the character and I thought he was too often used only as a foil for Vaughn. That annoyed me. Weiss had a lot of potential that was never explored. So that's what I set out to do. **

**The trigger for a Syd/Eric pairing was S3-ep3, when Weiss and Syd drown their sorrows in tequila, then later, Weiss gives Syd a copy of Alice in Wonderland. I wish the series had used the seed they planted there. But sadly, like most of S3, this was never developped. So again, I developed it "my way". :-D I'd love to hear what you think of it. Press the little Review button when you're done! Enjoy! :-)**

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**Part 5: The Bewitching Hour**

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Around midnight, a movement roused him from his light sleep. Sydney was already sitting up, wide awake.

Immediately, he brought his hand to her forehead. Even in the muted light coming from the small bedside lamp he had put on the floor earlier, Weiss could make out the red flush coloring her cheeks. She was burning up. "You're feverish. Do you have some Tylenol around?"

"In the medicine cabinet behind the bathroom mirror." Her voice was slightly hoarse.

He was gone and back in a minute, handing her three pills and the mug he'd rinsed out and filled with tap water.

"Isn't that too much? I don't feel that sick." Her voice was loud to her ears, but barely audible to Weiss'.

"…says the expert with the delirious fever. It's not that much. You only had the PM kind. It'll give you a good night sleep… Come on, Bristow, just swallow up. Don't make me make you…"

At the sound of his serious voice, Sydney looked up from the blue pills in her hand. She wasn't used to this side of Weiss' personality. Her brow furrowed as she tried to find a hint of humor on his face. But there wasn't any. He had that intense look she'd seen a few times when things got rough on a mission… Better surrender. She didn't have the energy to fight him anyway.

"Yes, sir…" She quipped.

He snickered, relieved he wouldn't have to live up to his threat, since he had no idea how to get Sydney Bristow to do something she didn't want to. "Attitude. It's the middle of the night, and she's giving me attitude. I can't believe this girl…"

"…'m not a 'girl'…!" She pointed out between sips of the cool water.

"You learn something new every day…" He deadpanned as he put the mug back on the nightstand.

Sydney gave a short giggle. She did feel a little strange, like her body was here but her mind was floating. A shiver ran along her spine, probably from the exertion of sitting up. She barely felt it, but she saw her hands and arms tremble from it. She wasn't sure if she was hot or cold anymore. Maybe Weiss was right and she was delirious after all. Ugh... Being sick always made her cranky… She just couldn't bear being so powerless over her body. And right now, after all that happened, it was like adding insult to injury.

Something wet was rolling down her cheeks. Swiftly, she tried to wipe the tears out without Weiss noticing, but it was too late. Already, he was pushing her back on the bed and trapping her hands under the huge comforter. Then he did something that made her heart ache with sweetness. Delicately, almost with reverence, his thumbs wiped away the remainder of the wet paths on her cheeks. She saw him struggle to talk, as if the words refused to get past his throat.

"Hey…" His voice faltered. He flashed a sheepish smile. "Uh, you ok?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "Just… empty…" She lowered her eyes to hide the fresh tears that were pooling there. She didn't want to ask him for more help when he'd already gone above and beyond the call of friendship. But she wasn't sure she could manage on her own right now. "Weiss… Eric, could you… Would you hold me? Please? At least until I fall back to sleep?"

The corner of his mouth moved up in understanding and he blinked his approval. Without a word, he walked to the other side of the bed, took his shoes off and scooted next to her form. Half sitting, half laying down, he opened his right arm and Sydney closed the distance between them. She laid her head on his shoulder, her right hand resting on his chest. "Thank you", she murmured.

Within minutes, she had drifted into a dreamless sleep.

.*.*.

.*.*.

.*.*.

Weiss slowly released a deep breath.

When Sydney asked if he could hold her, he hadn't thought twice. She needed closeness and help, and he was here to give just that.

But he was beginning to regret his lack of forethought. Because now, he was suddenly in a position he never thought he'd be in.

In her bed, in her arms, and much, much more intimate with her than he'd ever been before. Ok, technically, she was in his arms. But that didn't really help the situation now, did it?

As the minutes slowly passed, Weiss was getting more and more uncomfortable. Not because of his position, though that would have been greatly improved if he'd laid down entirely next to her instead of trying to keep some semblance of propriety by half-sitting up.

No. What was uncomfortable was the fact that having Sydney's body chastely flushed against his felt very right.

Which was terribly wrong.

He shifted a little, sliding down so that his head would rest on the top pillow and not on the hard headboard. As he moved, Sydney sighed in her sleep, molding her arm and hand around his torso, effectively preventing him from leaving without waking her up. "Great…" He murmured.

It wasn't so bad, really. She was pretty much unconscious, delirious with fever. She probably wouldn't remember a thing tomorrow.

… And that was beginning to bother him as well.

With nothing else to do and sleep remaining elusive, Weiss was suddenly faced with ideas he'd considered long buried. Thoughts that he'd happily lived in denial of when Sydney and he had renewed and deepened their friendship.

He still wouldn't put a name on any of it. Why would he do this to himself? What would be the point? If there had been a pool going on at work, he would have put a bet on Sydney still being in love with Mike, and the both of them eventually getting back together. And if not, well, with the insane break-up they had, she'd probably never truly get over him. With that kind of history, whoever came next to harbor feelings for her would be in for the biggest, most predictable emotional disaster ever.

That was all nice and rational, but it didn't change anything to the fact that he seemed to "care" for Sydney a lot more than he reasonably should. Try as he may, in the end, he had to recognize that there were "aspects" of his relationship with her that didn't fit well into the friendship category.

He closed his eyes and drew a long breath to help clear his usually pretty sound judgment. Insidiously, the faint scent of Sydney's hair traveled up from her cozy spot on his chest. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed the subtle hint of citrus whenever he was around her. It reminded him of the heady, sweet smell in the orange grove where he'd worked weekends when he was a teenager. Lately though, he'd noticed the old memory was fading, and it was Syd he now thought of whenever the zesty scent reached him. Nothing like it to drive him to distraction...

Soon though, his attention reverted to introspection as anger at himself needled his thoughts. This was not good at all. He could tell he was already a prisoner of his fondness for her. With any other woman, he was would have shrugged it all off as a passing crush, a momentary infatuation. He'd had plenty of experience with that. Normally, he would just forget about it and, in time, move on.

But this wasn't "normal." He already knew Sydney well enough to be beyond the stage of simple curiosity. She was daring and sweet, abnormally talented and so damn lovable, so beautiful… She even intimidated him a little! He let out a low chuckle. He'd been very careful over time not to let her know how easily her dimpled smile could reduce him to putty in her hands. How was that for supreme denial…

God, those dimples… He just itched to run a finger along them sometimes. Any folly was worth it to bring out that smile. He couldn't remember being happier than the day he'd squandered away a ludicrous amount of money to replace her lost edition of _Alice in Wonderland_. Her reaction when she got it… The painful, then radiant smile and the tears, and the feel of her in his arms… Nothing compared to seeing her happy because of something he'd done for her.

It was somewhere in the middle these reflexions that sleep finally caught up with him, but not before he'd had time to sigh again at the world of trouble he'd already crossed into.

.

tbc

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Next time, in Part 6: **Hello-Goodbye**

When she woke up, Sydney felt better than she had in weeks...

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**Feed the feedback, pretty please :-)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here we go. A fat chapter. You only get one of those a day... :-D A brand new day, explanations, a glimpse of Vaughn, tears, banter... and breakfast! **

**Enjoy and review, pretty please. It'll make me happy to read your thoughts... :-)**

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**Part 6: Hello-Goodbye**

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When she woke up, Sydney felt better than she had in weeks. She was refreshed. Her fever seemed to be gone. Her body was achy like after a long fight. But it was a good ache, born out of exertion and not despair.

She turned over on the bed and stopped at the sound of something crinkling. She sat up and saw a folded paper with a single word on it: Sydney.

Mechanically, she took the page and unfolded it:

.

Hey Syd,

It's five and the birds outside are yelling at me to get up.

You, on the other hand, they want to spare and serenade for a while longer. So I'll leave you to it.

Will be back around noon with the meanest brunch of all time. So be hungry.

Don't hesitate to buzz me if you need anything.

Eric

.

She grinned at the words written in a fluid hand. Eric… In the nightmare her life had been since she "came back" from where she never knew she'd gone, he had been, with the exception of her father (and how surreal was that…) the only steady point of her life. The one friend that greeted her as she was now and didn't judge or pressure her into "accepting" everything that was wrong in her new life.

In her past, he had always been in the background, like a trusted shadow. She smiled as she recalled him referring to himself as a "conduit to Vaughn." He'd been right -he often was, she'd discovered-. She had sadly neglected him back them. And in doing so, she'd deprived herself of the very precious friendship she was enjoying now. The one and only she had left, she noted.

Her brow furrowed at that thought. In light of last night's collapse, she suddenly wasn't sure how much their friendship might be affected. She couldn't bear the idea that her only remaining friend might look at her differently after seeing her like this. Not because of her being in the buff for a substantial part of that time. In her line of business, physical nudity was nothing to baring your emotions for everyone to see. And last night was so out of character… Such a loss of self-control… She was afraid she had irreparably damaged any confidence and regard Weiss had had for her. And that troubled her more she cared to admit.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the change of numbers on the clock display. 11:50. Weiss would soon be back. She just had time for a shower. She'd better be quick about it too. No need for a repeat of last night's performance.

She hopped out of bed, wincing a little at the soreness in her muscles. In the bathroom, she turned the shower on. As soon as she was out of her sweats, she walked into the warm stream of water.

How different one's perception could be from one day to the other. The water that yesterday had been an icy reminder of her loneliness, today felt like a gift that rejuvenated her spirits. She made quick work of using her shampoo and body wash.

It was truly remarkable how much lighter her mood was, she noted again as she rinsed the scented suds out of her hair. It was as though her mind had broken free from the depression that had taken hold of her just the night before. She almost felt at peace now that she had finally faced her worst fear. In the light of day, and however heartbreaking was the final realization that her relationship with Vaughn was over, it was as though an enormous weight had been lifted off her. She was sad. She hated all of it, but somehow she knew the worst was behind her. The tears had washed away the longing. And the night had swallowed the darkness that had enshrouded her since her return.

Not everything had changed. Her future was still undefinable. But she had a renewed sense of hope, which is more than she could have claimed 24 hours ago. It would have to do for now.

She turned off the shower and dried herself with her plushy blue towel. She'd have to explain all of this to Weiss. He deserved no less. Last night, he'd been so much more than a dutiful friend. Maybe if she explained, he would find it easier to forgive her weakness. She berated herself. Why did she believe that he thought less of her? He hadn't given any indication of that, last night. All the same, the idea that he might was too much to handle right now…

Back in her bedroom, she picked out undies, a pair of jeans, and a light blue t-shirt. She was all dressed and slipping her sneakers on when she heard the front door open quietly.

She smiled. Quickly, she went into the bathroom and combed her hair. Her reflection was a little pale, but not too bad, all things considered. The scrapes on her face were beginning to fade. And for the first time in months, the expression in her eyes seemed to match her lighter mood.

Satisfied that she wouldn't spook Weiss with the wild looks of a crazy person, she walked quietly towards the living room.

As she neared the end of the short hallway, she stopped and enjoyed the view. On the table, two plates were set along with their respective silverware. Turning her attention to the kitchen on the right, she spotted Weiss. He was busy putting on various serving plates what looked like an enormous quantity of food. Pancakes, sausages, bacon, muffins, scrambled eggs… He wasn't kidding when he told her to be ready for the works. She laughed softly, her eyes threatening to spill a couple of tears weighed down by fondness…

At the sound, Weiss turned around, maple syrup in one hand, a fork in the other and a startled look on his face. He let out a sharp breath of relief. "Jesus, Syd… You almost killed me with a giggl…"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence. She was already in his arms, hugging him fiercely. She let out a wet laugh, too full of gratitude to express it with words.

"Hey, hey, I'm here. It's ok". Weiss spoke softly. He reached out to put down the fork and syrup on the counter and soon returned her hug.

She laughed again, with more mirth this time.

"I know." She eventually pushed away from him and looked him square in the eye. "Thank you, Eric. Thanks for being here." She looked down to the kitchen tile, her dimples fully formed under the happiness of the moment.

"You're welcome." That was all Weiss could say to her heartfelt words. Pretty pathetic, he thought. He got a hold of himself, remembering how he'd thought all morning about how this moment could be awkward for the both of them and how he could make it easier for her forget that. "So… How's the appetite? Cause I may be well versed in the art of clearing up everything on a table, but I think I might've gone overboard, you know, not knowing exactly what you'd like. I kind of took a little of everything… Or a lot." He continued, his smile fading slightly to a more worried look at the sight of the enormous amount of food that covered both kitchen counters. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna need some major backup on this one. So what do you say?"

Sydney laughed at his mock embarrassment. She turned to the counter on her left and began inspecting what was there. Her smile widened at the sight of a couple of orange muffins. Grabbing one, she took a bite. She turned back to Weiss, an innocent look on her sweet face.

"I'm game if you are. But I think it's only fair I warn you: I'm a mean brunch machine. You'd better get a head start if you want to have something left to munch on…" She joked.

"What, a skinny thing like you? You'll be full after two bites…"

"In your dreams, Weiss. Bet you can't even touch me."

"You're so full of it, Bristow."

"Nah-hah," she denied, talking around the last of her orange muffin. "It'sh true. High metabolijm. If I don't eat a lot of food all the time, I can't maintain my weight. I get too thin"

"Ok now, I'm insanely jealous and my appetite is gone. Which is probably what you were after…"

She gave him a satisfied grin as she took the plate of pancakes and the syrup to the table. "I fight to win…"

"Yeah… In your dreams, Missy…" He joked back, happy to see her spirits up and the dimpled smiles back in full action. Her powers of recuperation had always amazed him. But never more than today. Who could tell this was the same person who had almost caught pneumonia out of neglect for her health last night?

They brought the rest of the food over to the table and spent the next half hour sampling a large part of the IHOP menu, laughing and bantering their way through several plates of deliciously comforting food. After her third helping, Sydney finally pushed her chair back, a hand on her stomach and a slightly nauseous look on her face.

"Ok. I surrender. You win. If I eat another bite, I think I'll explode," she said to Weiss who was finishing his last pancake.

"Yesss!" Weiss triumphed, arms up in victory. "I knew you were just faking it… Ok, I'll admit that for such a slender person, you can put away a fair amount. But that's as far as I'll go…"

"Thank you; I appreciate the recognition." She laughed. God, it was good to babble about nothing of significance and enjoy the simple pleasures of life again. She couldn't remember food tasting so great since she'd been back. She let out a long sigh to show her satisfaction. "Ahh, this was so good, Eric. I can't tell you how much I needed this… Ugh, I don't think I can move." She giggled. "Maybe if I concentrate hard enough, I can levitate that cup of coffee on the counter and float it over to me…"

Weiss laughed at her thinly veiled query. He stood up to get her cup as well as his, along with some sugar and creamers.

"Looks like it's working just fine, Syd. We might make something out of you yet."

She smiled at him as she took her cup. "Thanks. You're the best, Eric. Especially after last night…" She paused, sensing him tense a little. "I don't let just anyone babysit me to sleep, you know… At least, I don't think I used to…" The corner of her eyes crinkled as she quipped to lessen the tension she'd felt coming over him at the mention of what happened. She was taken aback when she saw him tense even more. He didn't want to press her, but she could tell he was dying to hear what had prompted her depressive state. "Hey umm, are you finished too? Do you want to move to the sofa?" She asked curiously.

"Sure." He answered briefly, hoping he'd managed to hide how her joke hit a little too close to home for comfort. No need to comment further anyway. He could tell Syd had it all worked out and wanted to talk. And who was he to try and distract her from telling him all that he couldn't wait to hear at last, right?

They took their coffees and sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Sydney put her cup down on the small table, all the while trying to figure out where to begin her story. Should it start when she and Vaughn were captured and beaten? Or when she told him she'd slept with Will and was ready to move on? Or even further back, when they were fighting over nothing on the plane?

Surveying Sydney's actions from the corner of his eye, Weiss sensed she was stuck. He took a sip of the java, and spoke in a nonchalant voice. "It's ok if you don't want to talk, Syd. It's ok to say nothing if you can't yet."

"No, no, I want to." She hesitated. "I just don't know where to start…"

"Why don't you start at the beginning, on the flight over. What happened?" He asked softly while putting down his half-empty cup.

"Yeah…" She smiled, grateful for the gentle nudge.

And she began recounting how the plane was attacked and they had to do an emergency landing. She explained how they got to the rendezvous point but were captured, and how they finally faced the firing squad, only to be saved at the last possible second.

Though he already knew most of this, Weiss listened quietly. Syd was drawing the background picture, giving the specs. Soon she'd stop with the mundane details and get to the heart of the matter.

"…And we hauled that Covenant sonofab***h Lisenker out of there and across the border. You know the rest." She paused, then spoke again in a lower voice. "That's what's in the official report. What's not in there…" She paused again, then looked straight at Weiss. "We kissed."

Weiss carefully kept his face very still. Ok so they kissed. Ok. So why was he so… disappointed, for lack of a better word?

At the sight of Weiss' dark face, Sydney thought back to what she had just said. Her eyes widened as she understood he must take her for a hussy to be kissing a married man.

"Oh no! It wasn't like that, Weiss, I swear. Not at all…"

Ok, now she lost him. "So… What was it like?" He asked without letting on to his confusion.

She looked at him sheepishly, slightly embarrassed to be dumping all this on him. Vaughn was his friend too, after all. She forgot that sometimes.

"On the flight over, we fought. It was awful and I was beginning to think about reassignment. But then, we were captured and injured. And there was no escape, only the firing squad waiting for us. That's when he told me how he felt." She looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I actually didn't let him finish. I knew… I think I always knew. But at the moment when he almost said 'it,' I understood… I finally admitted to myself that it was too late. Too much damage… The faith, the trust…" She stopped to think for a second and added: "And I think he understood it too." She paused once more. "… Before we were captured, on the way to Gai-Li, I'd told him I was moving on." She took a hitching breath. "So when we finally kissed, it wasn't just because we were about to die. And it wasn't because we…" She looked up, heavy tears running down her face. Her voice broke. "It was to say goodbye." She sighed and added in a whisper. "To 'us'…"

Stunned, Weiss remained silent and motionless.

Her emotions finally loose, Sydney started crying in earnest, her hands covering her mouth as if to keep the sobs in. A few words escaped her, muffled, torn right out of her heart. "… 'over… 's over…"

His own emotions yo-yoing between astonishment and something that felt suspiciously like relief, Weiss moved closer and gathered Sydney in his arms. Her whole body was trembling at the rhythm of her sobs. Each cry felt like an emotional jackhammer pounding on his chest, compounding the lump that closed up his throat.

God, he couldn't stand seeing her in so much pain. And yet, he was powerless to do anything that could alleviate her sadness. So he just held her tight. Without thinking, he caressed her hair lightly and drew soothing circles on her back. All the while, he kept murmuring gentle words to reassure himself as much as her that everything would be alright. And he was sure it would be, eventually.

At last, her sobs subsided, replaced by the occasional sorrowful, wet sigh. Then he heard a broken laugh. He looked down. Sydney was grinning through her tears, obviously in the grip of some ironical joke. "With last night's shower and all the crying, I can't believe the neighbors aren't calling for a plumber to fix the broken pipe," she said as a couple of stray tears fell heavily on his shirt. He laughed softly at her attempt at levity, and she followed suit.

After another heavy sigh, Sydney spoke again, her voice wavering at first, then gradually becoming more assertive.

"I knew… it was coming, you know… I mean, it was already decided while I was missing. There was no way out of his situation. So I had braced myself for this." She had a small bitter laugh. "I even found a way to prove to myself that I was over him. And I think I was. I know I am now. Still… When I realized our kiss was the last, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't have time to process it then… Only after, when I came home. And that's how you found me."

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks again. She moved closer to give him a tight hug. "Thank you for being my friend, Eric. Thank you so much. Last night. I was so lost… I don't know what I would have done…"

He hugged her back, reveling in the feeling of her vibrant body pressed against his chest and neck.

"You'd've been fine, Syd. Sick as a dog…" She laughed at his remark and he grinned with absurd pride at being able to make her chuckle at herself. "…But fine. You're so strong, Sydney. I don't think you always know how strong you are. I mean, I'm starting to feel self-conscious here. It's cramping my style."

She laughed again, her worries and sorrows suddenly turning into a mindless peel of giggles that became so contagious Weiss finally joined in. When they caught their breath, Sydney finally moved out of his arms, leaving him feeling somewhat empty at the loss.

"Wuuuh… Enough brooding already. I think I saw the sun out earlier. What do you say we go to the park for a run?"

"So I can die a happy death trying to catch up with you… Not a chance!"

"Come on, Weiss. You can do it. I promise to hold back." She mocked him fondly while pulling him up by his left arm.

"Oh yeah?" He snickered lightly before continuing. "No need to do me any favors, Bristow. Bet I can beat you to the ice-cream cart." She made a face at the thought of more food. "See? I play to win too…" He added with a cunning grin.

"Bring it on, Agent Weiss." She smiled widely, happy to play along.

With that, she went to wash off and get ready, while Weiss got to his apartment and changed into running gear. The two of them met in the hallway, a few minutes later, ready to take on each other's challenge. In the street, neither of them noticed a car that had been parked inconspicuously for a little while, half a block down. As they passed nearby, they started to run, all the while laughing and joking like friends of old.

When they were out of sight, Vaughn started the engine and move into the traffic, unaware of the tears that had escaped from his eyes.

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tbc

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Next time, in Part 7: **En-Route**

It had been five weeks since she'd been back from North Korea. At long last, it was beginning to feel like life was moving forward again...

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	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter is a little short, like the ones at the beginning, but the next chapter is the biggest, fattest of them all, not to mention the juiciest... So a little patience. Pay off is around the corner... :-D Happy reading! :-)**

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**Part 7: En-Route**

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It had been five weeks since she'd been back from North Korea. At long last, it was beginning to feel like life was moving forward again.

"Before" had been hard, endless and desperate.

"After"… "After" was still being constructed one day at a time. Despite the difficult moments, the doubts and the daunting certainty that she was leaving her soulmate behind, Sydney felt like she had finally reconnected with the human race. She could taste her food, laugh at jokes and actually enjoy all of it. She could also relate to those around her. All in all, much better than spending her time and energy feeling sorry for herself.

The subtle changes in her new life had started a couple of weeks after she and Vaughn had returned. In hindsight, the first step should have been obvious. Yet, it was only after her Dad's suggestion that she actually took it. One evening when he surprised her with Chinese take-out, he'd argued with his clear, concise logic that she had the possibility to change partners if she wanted to. Sydney never liked asking for favors, but the next day, she went straight to Dixon and explained as diplomatically as possible that she'd prefer to go with Weiss instead of Vaughn on the upcoming mission to Athens.

For all their past friendship, Dixon was singularly blind to what was happening between her and her ex-lover. Of course, nothing was the same as when she and Dixon were two halves of the same whole at SD-6. Too much had happened then, and since, another two years had compounded the break-up of their bond. There was no animosity, just less of a community of thought. The almost psychic link between them was rusty at best. And now he was her boss, which didn't help matters.

In any case, he hadn't spared her and Vaughn, and kept pairing them on ops as if nothing was the matter. Clearly though, after her original request, Dixon got the message. Things started to change. Vaughn was no longer her default partner for all missions. Weiss often accompanied her now, and she was happier for it.

That was how she presently found herself with him on a plane back from Vienna, Austria. She was putting some order in her report while Weiss concentrated on a preliminary analysis of the new data they had retrieved about Covenant operatives. There were lists and lists of names, locations, merchandise, buyers, sellers… They'd really hit the jackpot. Marshall and other analysts were already sifting through the intel, but it didn't hurt to scan it from their end as well.

A good hour into their 7-hour flight, Weiss turned off the computer he'd been staring at the entire time. With a low grunt, he rubbed his itchy eyes and the tense muscles in his neck.

At the movement, Sydney looked up and smiled at him. "Tired?"

"If I see another name or pair of meaningless initials, my eyes will auto-destruct." He announced with a yawn.

"Uh-huh…" She answered as if his explanation hadn't convinced her.

He glanced up and tried really hard to look mad at her. "Yeah, alright, I only slept 4 hours in the last two days. But hey, it's your fault... You set me up and one day, I'll exact a petty revenge on you for that…"

Sydney smiled at him, unimpressed by his growling. "Me?" She teased, sounding every bit the innocent.

"Yeah, you." He yawned again. "I was stuck after you left. Nothing I could do. Had to go with the flow."

"Yeah," she continued teasing. "But at least, it was blonde and willing…"

"She was a princess… or something. It's not like I could refuse her invitation." He protested without much conviction. "I mean, I'm a spy. I'm supposed to be stealthy, not start an international crisis. Well, unless it's on purpose."

"The sacrifices you make for your country…" She quipped with a half-smile.

"Yeah… I'm gonna have to bill Uncle Sam for a new pair of shoes after all the dancing she had me do. Not that you'd know anything about that… Abandoning me like a puppy at the curb. Shame on you, Vampirella." He pouted, intent on having her measure the full effect of her treason. Ok, maybe not "treason," but it sure felt very much like it.

"I thought you were having fun!" She protested. It was true… Partially.

He forced his tired eyes to focus, and gave her a look. "Do me a favor, Bristow. Stay out of meddling with my love life." Damn, he could do better than this, he knew it. If only he hadn't been on the verge of physical collapse, he would have berated her the way she deserved for pulling a prank like that on him. "Seriously, Syd, that was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

"Sorry." She apologized. She did feel a little guilty, after all. "I thought you might enjoy some time on your own. Without me and my moods… I'm out of practice."

"Yeah. So am I." Seeing her somewhat somber, he softened his words. "It's ok, Syd. At least now, I know I never want to be part of the jet-set lifestyle. And Alicia was kinda cute… in a drunken, capricious, disorderly sort of way." He teased.

Sydney paused at his last words. She was used to Eric's self-deprecating stories about his long-lost girlfriends. But she'd never met any of these past conquests he so readily joked about. Her curiosity peeked, she asked in a carefully neutral tone: "Not your style?"

Weiss chuckled. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought Sydney was checking him out. "Nah… I prefer girls that can see the man beyond the tuxedo." He said, his right hand moving down in front of him, as if to attract attention to what he was wearing. "And I don't mean by throwing up on it to get me out of the damn clothes."

Seeing Sydney's eyes grow rounder, he added quickly: "…which didn't happen, alright? When we took off the second time, she wasn't looking so good. Then she kinda stopped moving. And she got that blank look on her face," he mimicked a bought of nausea coming over him, "I jumped sideways out of the trajectory... The sofa wasn't quick enough, though."

Sydney gave into her laugh as she pictured a not-so-attractive, mostly green-looking Princess Alicia trying to keep it together until she couldn't anymore.

Satisfied that he'd cleared up any misunderstanding, Weiss pushed the backs of his seat and the next as far as they would go. He had some six hours to make up for his lack of sleep. Better get started right now. He bunched up his mission clothes in the fashion of a pillow and half-laid down. Another yawn escaped him. "Now, I'm going to get my beauty rest, if you don't mind."

"The sleep of the Just." She mocked gently as she watched him get as comfortable as his large frame would allow while cramped across a couple of half-reclining seats. "Wake you before we land?"

"If you can find it in your heart… I'll never live it down if I'm carried off the plane while I'm comatose…"

"Sleep tight, Weiss." She laughed softly.

He grunted something inarticulate as sleep overcame him.

Still smiling, she got back to writing her report. But it only took a few lines for her mind to wander back to the night before...

.

tbc

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Next time, in Part 8: **Awakenings**

He walked over and handed her the offending object, all the while still trying to put it on. When she didn't take it right away, he looked up and caught her staring at him like she'd never seen him before.

Sydney's brain was slowly catching up: Wow… Who knew that regular, Dockers and t-shirt Eric had it in him to make a tuxedo look that attractive? He looked really amazing with his hair gelled and peeking up, fresh-shaven…

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**Feedback candy, pretty please :-)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, so I decided to publish this chapter a little early, just to compensate for the fact that previous one was rather short. I hope you enjoy it. This was a schezophrenic chapter to write: the Syd part was re-written to death to get it where it is, while the last scene came to me almost as you see it here. Such is the life of the writer, I guess. Some stuff flows out of you. Other stuff just takes everything you have, including your guts, your patience and you capacity/willingness to give it your all. **

**Let me know if you think it paid off. XX00**

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**Part 8: Awakenings**

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Vienna, Austria  
Previous night

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They'd landed only 3 hours ago, after a very long day of preparation in LA. This op was of the utmost importance: if everything went as planned tonight, they would have an exhaustive list of Covenant operatives and transactions. After a short drive from the private airport where their plane had landed, Sydney and Weiss arrived in their CIA-secured hotel suite located in the heart of Vienna, and started preparing for the evening.

The mission was simple. A rendezvous with their informant at a predetermined time. The delivery of the item containing the data. Nothing they hadn't done before. Yet, like any mission, perfect timing and reviewing of the op specs could mean success versus failure in case something went wrong. After one last run-through, both agents left the common sitting room and went to their respective bedrooms to get dressed.

Half-an-hour later, Sydney was just coming out in a long spaghetti-strap, black evening dress, matching diamond earrings and necklace, and natural brown hair up in a French twist when she heard an expletive shooting out of Weiss' bedroom. The door opened a moment later, with Eric holding a cuff link. "Hey Syd, could you help me with this? I left my third hand in LA."

He walked over and handed her the offending object, all the while still trying to put it on. When she didn't take it right away, he looked up and caught her staring at him like she'd never seen him before.

Sydney's brain was slowly catching up: Wow… Who knew that regular, Dockers and t-shirt Eric had it in him to make a tuxedo that attractive? He looked really amazing with his hair gelled and peeking up, fresh-shaven…

"Syd?" He asked again as she had yet to answer.

His pressing tone finally got to her. "Um, Sure." She'd blurted out, plastering her "everything is alright" smile on to cover up her astonishment. She took the cuff link and concentrated on clipping it on; under the double effort, a wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. What was wrong with her? Hello! This was Weiss. Her partner, tequila buddy and best friend since she'd been back. It's not like she hadn't seen him in a suit before. She hadn't seen him in a tuxedo since he'd slimmed down, however. That must be it. The elegant tux cut accentuated his solid shoulders and narrower waistline. He'd never lacked self-confidence and ease. But tonight, his whole silhouette oozed of it. Quite the eye magnet…

The cuff link finally settled, Sydney turned away to hide the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks. What on earth had suddenly come over her? Weiss was almost like a long-lost brother to her. Which made this whole train of thought very unsettling...

For once oblivious to her struggles, Weiss checked his watch. "Ready? Let's hit it."

They left quickly, their minds immediately caught in the mission's inner rhythm.

Thirty minutes later, they were beyond the security check-point and inside the German embassy. Almost immediately, both of them separated and started to mingle as they waited for the time of contact, some 20 minutes away.

"Retriever, I'm going in. Turning off comm link for two minutes." Sydney spoke in a low voice when time was up.

"Copy that, Mountaineer." Weiss answered in the same hushed-up tone.

While Weiss stayed in the ballroom as backup, Sydney went into the adjacent buffet room to retrieve the intel. Amazingly, everything was going according to plan: no need to ruin her beautiful dress in a fight; her contact was there at the assigned time, leaving on a side table the small disc she artfully slipped under her beverage napkin. She was back in the ballroom before the two minutes were over and ready to collect her partner.

That was when she spotted him dancing a waltz (quite expertly too) with a young woman whose face was vaguely familiar.

Intrigued, she asked around and found out the girl was Alicia, Princess of some remote German province and a jet-set socialite with a particular penchant for intriguing, non jet-setters that could hold their own on the dance floor. And by the looks of it, she'd decided Weiss' dashing, unconventional charm and dancing talents were just the thing for her tonight.

Quite rapidly, an idea made its way through to Sydney's conscious mind. Completely aware that he wouldn't be able to respond, she reopened the comm link.

"Retriever, I'm done here. I'm going to turn in. I see you're got your work cut out for the evening. Have fun! Catch you later at the hotel."

Her smiled widened as she saw him frantically scanning the room for her. She left quickly for fear of giving him an out.

It was high time Eric got an evening to himself. He looked like he was enjoying the dance with his partner. Life was too short not to take advantage of all its opportunities, as she knew too well. Sometimes, you could die, and then come back to an existence where everything you loved had crumbled. Better enjoy it while you could.

Try as she may, however, she couldn't convince herself that her intentions were purely altruistic. The fact of the matter was that if she hadn't escaped while Weiss' hands were-so to speak-full, he would have come back to the hotel with her. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Except that after five weeks of constant surveillance on his part, the independent side of her had just decided it was time she graduated from his particular brand of care.

She appreciated the sentiment, she really did. Weiss was an unending source of strength, laughter, and moral support in her new life. He was honest and loyal, and for some reason, he could read her like an open book. He was the only person, besides her father maybe, who knew exactly that her claims that she was "fine" were just a smoke screen to hide her still healing wounds. Being able to share some of that burden with him made going through the day that much better, no doubt there.

But tonight, she was ready for some "alone time."

And anyway, it would do him good to talk to another female beside herself.

Convinced she was doing the right thing, Sydney got a taxi. Twenty minutes later, she was back in her room, alone at last. Rapidly, she sent the content of the disc over the secure line Marshall had established, and locked the precious item in the safe.

In her bedroom, she tossed off the awful stiletto pumps that killed her feet, slid out of her dress, and walked to the bathroom. She started the shower running while she finished undressing and taking the pins out of her hair. A minute later, she stepped into the hot water jet. She stayed there for a little while, trying to think of nothing and enjoy the moment. Eventually, she turned off the shower, feeling somewhat relaxed from the tension of the last 36 hours. She dried herself and donned the bathrobe that was hanging on the door.

Even after a two-year disappearance, her bathing ritual had endured. It was a necessary step when she came back from a mission. As if she were cleansing the spy skin off of her, so that she could relax and enjoy her day-to-day life. Ideally, she preferred to soak in a bathtub for half-an-hour, but that wasn't always possible. Tonight, she was tired and the shower would have to do.

She poked around her overnight bag to find her pjs. No more glamour for her tonight. What she needed right now was comfort. In a way, it had always been like that, even back when Will and Francie, and Vaughn to some extent, used to greet her at home. They'd be there, waiting for her to return, ready to talk about everything and nothing. They were regular people in a way she couldn't be. And for the love and comfort they gave her, she woke up every morning and tried to make the world a place where those sentiments still counted for something.

The bathrobe thrown aside and her pjs on, a glass of water on the nightstand, Sydney climbed into the queen size bed and turned the light off. She settled in a comfortable spot between the white sheets. Intent on sleeping, she closed her eyes and waited.

And waited.

After half-an-hour, she was already worn out at the thought of the long sleepless night before her.

Since her return from wherever she had been, insomnia had been plaguing her more or less severely. If she managed to fall asleep at all, she would usually wake up in a panic after a couple of hours of fitful rest, her breathing labored, her hair damp with sweat. The dreams always vanished when she was conscious. All she knew was that she couldn't go back to sleep, for fear that something bad might happen. Like losing everything and everyone she loved by the time she woke up. She'd tried to fight it on her own, with relaxation, pills, workouts that left her barely standing. And she succeeded some of the time. And many times, she did not.

Turning on her left side and readjusting her pillow, Sydney reflected that her sleep deprivation would have landed her in a home for the mentally ill, if it hadn't been for Weiss. Since her return, he'd made sure she knew to count on him. And she had. He'd been her only rock to hold onto in the tempest of her emotions and doubts. It was discreet in the first few months. He would occasionally come for dinner or a few rounds of tequila. Often, the evening would last until pretty late.

The first time she'd woken up the next day, still on her couch but somehow more rested, she'd been mortified to have dozed off on him like that. He, of course, was long gone, the throw covering her the only testimony of his presence the night before.

When she saw him next, he wouldn't hear her apology. As with everything, he made light of it, calling her Snow White and pointing out how he'd managed to be the seven dwarves all by himself. As she insisted, he hinted that he knew she struggled to sleep, and her dozing off was fine with him. In fact, he seemed quite touched she'd been comfortable enough to let herself fall asleep while he was around. In the end, what should have been awkward and rude became a measure of their mutual trust and friendship.

All of his care hadn't been enough to prevent her breakdown, though. Poor Eric… She'd probably scared the living daylights out of him, the night he walked in on her almost-catatonic body in the shower. Since then, he'd given up any pretense at discretion and started hanging around all the time.

In the darkness of the bedroom, Sydney smiled fondly as she thought of the long hours they'd spent talking. Make that: she talked about how miserable she was and he listened, never complaining about what had to be the most boring, potentially embarrassing, topic of conversation for him: life after her death in a world without Vaughn. He listened and he answered, even encouraged her to get it off her chest, always making sure she would laugh at herself and her fears and worries by evening's end.

Tequila helping, they'd even managed to exchange a few chapters of their respective life stories. They'd bonded and crossed into an undefined territory where friendship was the foundation and sharing, the cement. And thanks to his support, she was beginning to find her way in this strange world that was now hers.

She sighed, turning once more in the already tangled sheets. She'd wanted to be alone. Well, she'd gotten more than she bargained for. Loneliness and insomnia to boot. Plenty of time to rehash her crazy situation. Great.

Tired of tossing and turning, she got up and put on the bathrobe she'd left on a nearby chair. In the half-shadow bathing the room, she walked to the window and peered down at the city below. There was something serene about a million little lights twinkling and defining the darker valleys that made up the streets.

She sighed again, loneliness wearing on her. For some reason, she kept coming back to the fact that Weiss wasn't next door, as he was back at home.

And she missed him, she suddenly realized. She missed knowing she could call him, and he would be there in a minute. She missed the sarcastic banter she'd grown fond of. And, sleeplessness helping, she found herself wishing the solid shoulder he often lent her was there to fall asleep on.

It was embarrassing to admit, but it was true. Forget the occasional times when she'd dozed off at the end of an evening spent with him. Since the shower incident, she'd hardly gone to sleep without him being around. At this point, it was like an unscripted routine they replayed almost daily.

They'd hook up for dinner or after, for a beer or a movie, sometimes a game of cards. She would eventually lie down on the couch. He'd be sitting on the ground, fussing over something, and the next thing she knew, it was morning and time to get up.

Every once in a while, after a particular difficult time on a mission or a long talk that made her blue, she would even swallow her pride like she had done the night of the shower, and ask him if he would please just hold her until she fell asleep.

He never said yes. He just smiled and nodded in silent understanding. It wasn't long before she figured out those were her more restful nights.

He was never there the next morning. She didn't expect him to be. And yet, she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret that he wasn't around to help her slip back into the land of the living just as he had soothed her into the oblivion of sleep.

They were walking a tight rope, though. It was funny how both of them had made a point never to cross the fine line between physical presence and what could lead to something more intimate.

Or so she thought until tonight.

Not that Weiss had given her any indication that he was acting out of anything but friendship.

Rather, it was she who was looking at him differently. She thought back to earlier this evening, when she first saw him coming out of his room. Like a VCR that had been on pause all night, her mind picked up where she'd felt foolish for reacting so strongly to his entrance in the room.

Smiling at the memory, Sydney left the window, walked back to her bed and sat down. Despite herself, her eyes peered into the darkness to make out the door to the common sitting room. As the reason why she'd been embarrassed earlier slowly became evident, she couldn't help but blush again.

It was simple, really. It was bound to happen one day.

For the first time in all the evenings they had spent together, she had looked at Eric Weiss as a man. She'd caught herself evaluating him physically, how attractive he was to her, the line of his broad shoulders, his solid set, the soft curves of his cheeks, the dead-gorgeous smile he got when something made him very happy, his brown eyes, so expressive, so caring, so enigmatic sometimes.

Her smile transformed into a quiet giggle. Was she crushing on Weiss? Eric? She was, wasn't she?

She giggled again, her insomnia momentarily forgotten. It was so strange to even consider it. She'd spent so much time with him as if he was the big brother she never had. Anything else felt out of place.

No, she couldn't be, her logical mind decided. They'd just been thrown together a lot lately. And she'd been emotionally vulnerable. And he'd been the only one there all along, listening and caring. And that was all there was to it.

Nevertheless, the thought of him relaxed her, and she shoved her logical voice to the side to make room for the teenager in her, complete with renewed blushes and silly grins. A little fantasy never hurt anyone. And it was so good to remember how…

A startling insight suddenly cut her daydreaming short.

Her old feelings.

Oh. God. Oh God.

She let out a whimper. Everything inside her, every stronghold of her mind and heart was dissolving under the shock of what she had just become conscious of.

Already, her face was grimacing as it did every time she was trying to hold her tears in. Soon, her hand came up to her mouth in a futile attempt to stop the sound of the first sobs already passing her trembling lips.

Oh God. How could it be? How? After all this time, the years… and now?

Her tears started flowing… Silently, she cried, overwhelmed by the swift assault of the precious emotions she hadn't felt in decades.

It had happened around the time of her mother's death. They said her mommy had gone with the angels, and her daddy was away. That was why she was staying with strangers all the time. They were nice, but they didn't know how to take care of her like mommy and daddy did. And that hurt so much inside. So one day when her heart was too heavy to go on being sad, she decided to do like in one of her stories, where the hero put his feelings in a bottle until he could use them again. And carefully, she'd hidden in her heart all her memories of being cherished, loved and protected. One day, maybe daddy would be back and then, they could uncork the bottle together.

But daddy had never been back. Not the way he was before he left. And all the feelings and caresses and love had stayed buried so that Little Sydney could go on living, ignoring a pain that would have crippled her if she hadn't protected herself.

As careful as she was, the feelings would sometimes emerge from the deepest recesses of her heart. She'd even thought they'd been revived on occasions: with Danny, with Vaughn, even when she renewed her relationship with her father. She'd tried to awaken them like a dormant genie when she took up house with Francie and Will.

But none of these relationships, as profound as they were, could fully rekindle the cozy, familiar warmth and calming proximity, the caring love and blind trust she'd felt as a little girl.

Nothing until now. She was feeling all of it right now. And it wasn't because she was thinking about her childhood.

It was because she was daydreaming about a shoulder a friend lent her to sleep on.

She remembered now how, most evenings over the past month, she was able to abandon all pretense. She'd been too preoccupied to notice it, but it was truly the little Sydney in her that had resurfaced. Somehow, her past and present had reconnected, bringing back the purity of her old feelings, the blind trust she'd put in the person whose arms were holding her tight as if she were the most precious, most unique thing in the world. At last, she was safe, calm and hopeful. She could sleep without the fear of waking up to another nightmare.

Fresh tears fell slowly along her cheeks. She'd been so touched when Weiss had replaced the lost copy of _Alice in Wonderland_ that her mom had given her, all those years ago. It was such a thoughtful, optimistic gift, as if to tell her that nothing was completely lost that could not be rebuilt one way or another.

But it was only now that she also understood how incredibly appropriate the gift was. Like the days after her mom's accident, her return from the dead was a sort of jump down the rabbit hole. Since she'd woken up in Hong Kong, everything felt like a dream that called itself reality. In her mind's eye, like Alice, she was alternately big and small, perpetually out of place.

But slowly, Eric had become her anchor, her lifeline to the next day. He'd given her back her sleep and serenity. She trusted him to hold her back or jump in with her if anyone tried to make her disappear down the hole again. Day after day, he'd guided her through her chimerical regrets, dreams and wishes, until the true reality of her present life became familiar and she finally felt like she belonged here.

She didn't want to vanish anymore. Not when the meanderings of the rabbit hole had just brought her home.

.

.*.*.

.

In the wee hours of the morning, Sydney finally dozed off for a while, until the background noise of Vienna waking up pulled her out of her light sleep.

Exhausted, she went to shower in the hope that it would give her a jolt. Soon after, she put on her running pants, shoes, and a t-shirt, and decided to go out for a little while.

Within half-an-hour, she was back. In and out of the shower, and she was ready to face the day ahead. She stopped to read her email. Marshall was gushing about all the encryption codes he was having to break. He informed her, however, that it was quite complex and would take several hours to resolve.

The rest of the morning was spent writing her report and examining the preliminary data that was available. All the while, the emptiness of Weiss' room behind her hurt like a burn.

When Weiss hadn't answered her phone calls to his bedroom earlier, she figured her improvised scheme might have worked a little too well. Which, after the soul searching and discoveries she had made last night, elicited mixed feelings in her.

By lunchtime, these unnamable feelings turned to slight worry.

When he finally showed up to collect his things, she felt downright bad. Exhausted, unshaven, still standing up out of sheer will power, he only had half an hour to spare before they left to catch their plane. Apparently, Alicia's determination, considerable means and private jet had forced Weiss to accompany her to St Moritz, Switzerland, for a quick run-by-candlelight down the slopes, then Trieste, Italy, to attend one of her friends' birthday bash. They'd finally landed back in Vienna around 2pm.

Weiss went straight into his untouched bedroom, leaving the door half open in his hurry. While he took out a change of clothes and stripped out of his tuxedo, Sydney could hear him swearing revenge on her. He went on mumbling all the way to the shower he needed so badly after being on his feet for more than 18 hours straight (apparently, they'd danced on the plane too.)

In the common sitting room, Sydney couldn't help but smile.

.

.*.*.

.*.*.

.*.*.

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Somewhere over the Atlantic  
Present time

.

Her report finally finished, Sydney briefly checked her email and turned off her laptop. Still pondering, she kept replaying last night's sequence of events and the unexpected feelings they'd stirred up in her. She sighed, too tired to think anymore after her battle to find some sleep.

"Fe' God'sake, jus' lie down 'n tak' a nap, Syd." Weiss slurred, barely coherent in his state of half awareness. "You makin' me nervous."

Startled out of her reverie by the very object of her thoughts, Sydney's eyes went from half-slits to wide-open. She caught herself and smiled to cover her confusion.

"Yeah, I guess I could use some rest too. I didn't sleep too well last night either." She confessed before she could catch herself. Damn… So much for trying to spare him the nuisance of her insomnia.

Sure enough, his tired eyes opened and he scrutinized her face. She had dark shadows under her eyes. It was a telltale sign he'd come to recognize as an indication she hadn't slept at all. He sighed. As annoyed as he had been at her last night for planting him there with Her Majesty Alicia, Weiss had figured out what Sydney was up to: she wanted to stake her independence. Over the past few weeks, they'd hardly spent an evening apart. And last night, Sydney had decided it was time for her to go home and find sleep by herself like a big girl.

That had worried him on two counts: first, he'd wondered if she thought he was too much in her face and she wanted to gently tell him to back off a little; second, he'd worried about how well she would sleep, if at all. Lately, the excitement of missions tended to keep her awake. It usually took much cajoling on his part for her to finally let herself slip into a semblance of rest. And thanks to her conniving ways, he wouldn't be around to help her when sleep eluded her.

It was good his feelings weren't easily hurt, he thought with a half smile, or he might have been upset that she was able to fall asleep so quickly in his arms. But as it were, he was just content that his presence helped her find some peace and rest from the demented life that was hers. He would never own up to it, but he'd grown accustomed to her form next to him. It felt very empty and worthless to waste some sleep without the weight of her head on his shoulder these days.

Right now, he could tell she would like nothing better than to rest, but it was too late for her to take a pill. And because of his terrible mood, and not-so-veiled threats of revenge for the stunt she'd pulled on him, she wasn't going to ask for what he knew she craved. With effort, he rose from his improvised bed to sit up, repositioned his makeshift pillow to support his back, and tapped the still-warm cushion next to him.

"Com'ere." He half-yawned.

"It's ok, Weiss. You don't have to do this." Her tone was a little clipped, as she grew slightly annoyed that he could read her so easily.

"Syd, I really don't want to get up from this nice warm spot and drag you back here Cro-Magnon style, but I will if you don't come and keep me company… please," he said, drunk with sleep and other undetermined substances he was forced to ingest earlier in the day that seemed to be catching up with him.

Keep him company? Sydney's eyes widened. In all the times that they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, she'd never considered that he might depend as much on her as she did on him.

That gave her pause.

Finally, she just answered an "Okay," and she walked around the narrow white table that separated his seat from hers.

He'd already molded himself against the bunched up clothes at his back, and his left arm was outstretched, ready for her to take place in it.

She sat down and leaned into the inviting cushion his shoulder provided for her head. Out of habit, her hand came to rest across his chest. She let out a sigh of contentment. As always, her already foggy mind couldn't quite process why, as soon as she touched the reassuring solidity of his shoulder, she was overcome by a feeling of peacefulness. She got even closer to him when she felt his arm curl around her form and his hand rest on the small of her back. It wasn't long before they were both sound asleep, lulled by the muted purr of the airplane's engines.

.

.*.*.

.

A sudden noise jerked them out of their quiet slumber. Immediately alert, both of them sat up. It was only a moment before they realized the plane had simply landed a little hard and was now rolling towards the exit ramp. Both of them relaxed back into the seat, exchanging knowing glances as they laughed at their by-the-book reaction to the rough wake-up call. Finally, their laughs faded to faint smiles.

Then something shifted in the air.

They stood still, unable to avert their curious eyes from each other.

After what seemed like an eternity, Weiss's gaze glided slowly to her left. His right hand came up and, in a light caress, smoothed a few fussed-up strands of her hair back into place. Once. Twice. His breath was short but subdued as he strove to keep control over his runaway mind.

Without looking, he could feel the weight of her eyes on him as she watched intently. His chest contracted when she allowed her head to yield ever so slightly under the imagined pressure of his fingers.

Eventually, he let his hand fall back down. As he turned to look out the window, he said quietly: "I missed you last night."

An ancient, nameless emotion rekindled from deep within her heart. "Me too." She whispered, barely aware the words had passed her lips.

He looked back at her, convinced she was just being her usual nice self.

But her expression was unsure and so serious.

The sight of her sweet face drew him in. For an infinite second, his soft brown eyes looked down at her pale lips spread like a newly open rose bud. As he saw them tremble and part lightly under his gaze, he felt an overpowering urge to kiss her breath away.

"Folks, we're ready to disembark when you are," the Captain informed them as he passed through the only aisle of the short plane on his way to open the exit door, tactfully ignoring what was taking place between his two passengers.

At the rude interruption, both Sydney and Weiss moved back, an indefinable look on their faces. They quickly got up and gathered their belongings, stealing glances while carefully avoiding meeting each other's eyes.

The drive back to the office in the CIA-issued van was short and silent. When they arrived, all hell broke loose. It seemed Marshall had found some vital intel in one of the encoded files. Within the hour, Sydney had left with Vaughn on a recon mission in the Atlas Mountains of Algeria, where it was suspected that the Covenant housed its central operations.

She wasn't back for a full week.

She didn't sleep much.

Unbeknownst to her, neither did Weiss.

And in the dead of night, 8000 miles apart, both agents tried to ignore the fact that neither the stress of a highly dangerous mission, nor the worry it generated could make them forget the heart-stopping sensation of a soft hand weaving through a few strands of silky brown hair.

.

tbc

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Next time, in Part 9: **From Algeria, with love**

It was Friday night before the long President's Day weekend, and Weiss had every intention of enjoying this mini-vacation...

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**Hey, kitty kitty feedback, com'ere... (that was silly talk for: press the Review button below... :-) Thank you!)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Considering I'm publishing this story long after Alias has wrapped up and in a pairing that is non-traditional, I'm really glad to see that this story has some regular visitors. Thank you for reading! Second to last part of this story. Enjoy the ride... If you would kindly live a review, I'll be the happiest writer of them all! :-)**

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**Part 9: From Algeria, with Love**

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It was Friday night before the long President's Day weekend, and Weiss had every intention of enjoying this mini-vacation.

It had been some time since he'd had a bachelor's night all to himself, complete with ice-cold beer, Lime Tostitos and Mamacita Homemade Extra-Hot Salsa. There was more beer in the fridge, and several helpings of his personal favorite: Cincinnati Chili con Carne with dark cocoa and a dash of habanera for good measure. That was for later, during the second movie.

Right now, he was rediscovering the undeniable "qualities" Ursula Andres could display when she put her body to it. It was the scene where she emerged from the surf in that oh-so-hot white bikini that showed just enough to spark Weiss' adolescent fantasies anew. God, she was beautiful. Curvy in all the right places, with the perfect blend of sweetness and temerity.

Since he'd first watched "Dr. No" (and decided he'd be James Bond when he grew up), he'd been entranced by that little moment of cinematic heaven where his feminine ideal of the time had come out of the ocean like a modern siren. She was the natural heir to Wonder Woman and Barbarella, and that appealed to his comic book junkie side. She was a dream come true. The woman off the page, fleshed out from the drawing. He could almost touch her, smell her. Almost.

Weiss sighed contentedly as he took a swig of the Corona. There was a lot to be said for the classics. As Ursula laid down on the beach, her body bathed in sunlight and glistening with salty water drops, he let out an appreciative: "Oh yeah... Home sweet home." Eyes half closed, a barely disguised predatory smile playing on his lips, Weiss reveled in the delicious fantasy that had inhabited most of his mid-teens. Nothing like a trip down that particular memory lane to bring out his true self again.

And he needed that, right now. To remember who he was and what he wanted out of life. In fact, he planned on many more sessions this weekend to remind himself of what he stood for and believed in. "The Breakfast Club" for honesty and true friendship; "Mutiny on the Bounty" for team work and ethics. "Like Water for Chocolate" for general indie culture and sensual cooking tips. And finally, all of the first five seasons of the "X-files" for lessons in restraint towards attractive colleagues in the work environment.

That last one might have to play continuously for a while. He took another sip, his eyes straying away from Ursula just as Bond was about to compromise her virginal image.

Damn, he really didn't want to go down that road again.

He sighed. If Ursula, lemon Corona and Mamacita salsa weren't enough to distract him from those other thoughts, what the hell was he going to do?

He gave it another try. But his interest was lost, and soon after, he was brooding again over the "thing."

This couldn't go on. He had to get Sydney, her hair, her smiles, all of her out of his head. He couldn't be thinking of her this way.

Why was he doing this to himself? How could he even contemplate it? This infatuation was a bad idea on so many levels. It was obvious! Anything beyond friendship, any… relationship with her had disaster written all over it. It didn't matter how you looked at it. It was all wrong.

…Because despite what she said, she clearly wasn't over Mike. Because the two of them had unfinished business. Because she was Mike's ex-girlfriend. Because an Eric Weiss was best friend material, not dating material. Because she was sad and lonely, and he was there and willing. Because a friendship like theirs would only turn into something more in a Harlequin book. Because…

He buried his face in his hands for a moment. He sure knew how to pick them. In the World's Best Romance Flopathon, he had a shot at making it to the top. Roadie Girl, Guitar Girl, and now Spy Girl. Always reaching for the wrong gal who would abandon him in the end. And Syd? She was the best of them all. With her baggage, he could pick and choose one of a thousand ways a relationship with her would end. It ranged from suicide to going back to Mike, and it was all guarantied to be very painful.

Over the past week, with Vaughn and Syd gone, he'd had plenty of time to replay the "moment." Why he had let himself get so personal with her he couldn't fathom. He took pride in his smarts, and that move was probably the dumbest thing he'd done in his entire adult life.

Of course since that day, he'd come to recognize what he had been living in denial of 'til then.

That he was hopelessly falling for Sydney Bristow. That it was probably already too late to step back, and that, consequently, he was in real danger here. The danger of having his heart trampled on. And that couldn't happen. Because when others had problems with love, they'd come to him. But he didn't have anyone to talk to. Except Sydney and Mike… And therein laid the danger.

He glanced at the now tepid beer, the half-eaten chips and salsa. That was it. Just the thought of her had effectively sucked all the fun out his evening. Right now, he was so depressed even work felt like it would be a relief.

Suddenly determined, he got up, happy he hadn't yet changed out of his day clothes. He grabbed his jacket, keys and badge, forgetting his cell phone that was hidden behind the chips bowl. He took one last sip of beer, and headed out the door. If examining the latest data on the takedown of several key Covenant facilities didn't keep his mind busy enough, he could always hit the gym and agonize over lifting weights and outrunning the treadmill.

And if that wasn't enough, he could still come home, take a couple of pills and sleep it off.

Either way, he was going to obsess over something other than the proximity of his neighbor, Agent Sydney Bristow, who had just come back from a week-long assignment and would probably be in her apartment any minute now.

He could endure the daydreams, the unbidden thoughts, even the sickeningly sweet sighs and goofy smiles he couldn't always control. But he didn't think he could handle meeting the object of his thoughts and trust himself not to kiss her the very moment he saw her.

At least, not until he'd exhausted his body enough that sleep would be the only thing on his mind.

.*.*.

.*.*.

.*.*.

When he got in the Rotunda, Weiss could tell something was happening. It was 7:30pm on a Friday night before a long weekend. But there were still a bunch of people milling around as if nothing was the matter. Undoubtedly a repercussion of the Algerian op.

As he approached his desk, he caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette. Vaughn was still here, probably wrapping up the debriefing.

Weiss quickly scanned around. No Sydney in sight. At least he was safe from that awkwardness.

From the other side of the room, Vaughn caught his attention and started walking towards him.

"Hey, Eric, what are you doing here at this hour?"

"Hey. Nothing, just…getting a head start on the most boring long weekend of the year," he said while sitting at his desk. "You?"

"We just finished the debrief. I'm going to head home…" Vaughn's brow furrowed. "Oh, did you see Sydney? She was looking for you earlier. It seemed important. Something about finalizing the report on your Vienna mission?"

Weiss' brow furrowed a little, not sure what this was all about. "Uh, no, haven't seen her." Keeping the worry out of his voice and innocently shuffling paper on his desk, he asked. "Is she still around?"

"No. She went home a little while ago," Vaughn confirmed. "Maybe she thought she'd find you at your place. She seemed very intent on closing up that report," Vaughn added, joking slightly.

Weiss breathed out a small sigh of relief at the close call.

As Eric missed his cue to joke back about Sydney's obsession for expediting paperwork, Vaughn observed his friend briefly. "Are you ok, Eric? You… don't seem so great…"

"I'm fine." Weiss lied, looking up at Mike to reassure him with a quick smile. "Really."

Vaughn looked at him some more, sensing something was out of sorts with his friend. Which reminded him of an incident earlier in the week…

"Hey listen, I wondered if you knew… um…" He stopped, slightly uncomfortable to pump his friend for information, then started again. "Sydney and I had plenty of time to talk during the mission." He smiled in that painful way he did every time he talked about her. "We… We've come to an agreement. And she's decided to move on…" he said somewhat dejectedly. But he caught himself. "…Which is great. For her…" His voice trailed, his thoughts getting lost in the labyrinth of old and new feelings. "Anyway, we were talking one night, and I got the feeling that she might have someone new in her life… Do you, do you know anything about this? Who this guy is?"

As Weiss remained frozen, Vaughn added: "I… I know what you're thinking, and it's not that, I promise you. I want her to be happy. I really do. And I know it's not going to be with me now… But she seemed so distracted. She wouldn't say anything, but I could tell something was bothering her. I just want to make sure she doesn't, you know… end up with some jerk out of desperation or misjudgment." He finished, worry etched in the lines barring his forehead.

Weiss' eyes widened at what his friend just implied. Who the hell did he think he was, that Sydney couldn't get over him without ending up with a degenerate?

"Look, Mike, I know rebound relationships aren't the best... But give the girl some credit, man! And get over yourself while you're at it. She's gonna be fine. She's Sydney. She dodges bullets for a living. She sure can dodge a guy or two…"

"It's not rebound." Vaughn stated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"What?" Weiss stared at him, not understanding.

"She's already done that." Vaughn looked down, uneasy. "She… She told me she slept with Will."

Again, Weiss remained silent, stunned by the news. Thinking he wasn't remembering , Vaughn added: "Will Tippin, her frien…"

"Yeah, I know who Will is." Weiss countered, his voice clipped… Well, she did say she'd done something to prove to herself that she was over Vaughn…

At the tension in Weiss' tone, Vaughn scrutinized his friend's face. He'd probably been too preoccupied to notice earlier, but Eric looked tired. Two dark circles under his eyes suggested little or no sleep. Come to think of it, he seemed rather subdued, which in and of itself told him that something was really affecting him.

The more he looked at Eric, the more details he observed: the three-day stubble; the fact that he was constantly fidgeting as if he were uncomfortable. What a contrast in just a week. Over the last couple of months, Vaughn had noticed how relaxed and happy Weiss seemed to be. He'd even teased him about it and asked if the lucky gal was anyone he knew. Weiss had given him an odd look and laughed it off with this mysterious remark: "Nah, I've just been sleeping better."

At the time, Vaughn had felt a little hurt that the man he'd long considered his best friend didn't trust him enough anymore to confide in him about his love life. He figured, in his own way, Weiss was trying to protect him by not parading his present bliss. So he'd left it at that.

Then he'd gone to Algeria for a long grueling week. The mission had been very tough, with long hours of surveillance in rough terrain. They'd been lucky enough to scout a deep cave that gave them relief from the elements and allowed one of them to eat and rest while the other continued to watch over the movements in the Covenant's complex. Unfortunately, Sydney hadn't been able to sleep…

Vaughn's train of thought came to a screeching halt, as if it had hit a snag that stopped it dead in its tracks. He looked at Weiss who was turning his computer on. Then he looked to the right at Sydney's desk and her empty chair.

He looked back at Weiss.

Weiss who definitely looked exhausted.

His friend's rumpled appearance reminded him of himself, back in the SD-6 days, when he wouldn't sleep at all while Sydney was on a particularly dangerous assignment… Just like the one she had been on this past week.

Weiss hadn't slept.

She couldn't sleep *either*…

Suddenly, like pieces of a puzzle assembling before his eyes, Vaughn started putting two and two together. Weiss, Sydney, neighbors. Weiss unattached. Sydney lovely and vulnerable. Friendship. Missions together. And Sydney immediately upon their return asking for Weiss under a pretext and going home, presumably to…

God, had he been so blinded by his own grief at losing her forever that he hadn't even noticed the glaring clues on display? Memories of moments he'd observed between Eric and Sydney came back at once: shared jokes, hugs, rides to and from home, fond glances, secret conversations and smiles… He'd seen it all, but had chalked it up to the renewal of their friendship… 'til now.

And now, he wasn't sure if he was angry, or relieved, or what the hell he was thinking.

Weiss had returned to the papers on his desk and was copiously ignoring him…

"You…" Vaughn murmured. "It was you."

"Me what?" Weiss asked distractedly.

Vaughn paused a second, remembering under what pretext Sydney had asked to talk to Eric. "Something happened during the mission in Vienna, didn't it?"

As Weiss looked up with a startled expression on his face, Vaughn knew he'd hit the nail right on the head. "What was it? Did you have a fight? She couldn't sleep in Algeria… Nothing would do. I mean, she's had insomnia in the past, but never like that. She said she'd left the only thing that worked at home… What happened? How long have you two…?"

"We haven't! There is nothing, alright? And there's not gonna be, ever. We became a little too friendly, but that stopped before we could regret anything." Weiss sighed in frustration. "For god's sake, Mike, she still loves you, can't you see it?

"I'm not so sure about that..." Vaughn started.

"Well, I am. She's told me all about how she misses you and she's not sure she can go on without you."

"But she was finally finding sleep again…"

"Yeah, she was sleeping every time I sta…" Weiss stopped, berating himself for letting on to more than he wanted to.

Vaughn didn't say anything at first, as he was digesting the confirmation of what he'd begun to suspect. He was pained, of course, and this would take time to sort out. But above all, he thought he should clear up something that was all too evident to himself now, but not to Weiss.

"She couldn't sleep for the whole week, Eric." He looked his friend straight in the eye to drive his point home. "And there wasn't a damn thing *I* could do about it…"

Weiss stared at his friend, taking in what he had just said.

"She may still love me, but…" Vaughn paused, hurt by the admission. "… She's not in love with me anymore."

Weiss blinked a couple of times at this new development. But then he shook his head.

"It still doesn't change anything. I couldn't do this to you, Mike. I may not look it, but I follow some rules of conduct. And Thy shalt not covet thine ex-partner ex-girlfriend ranks pretty high right now."

"She's not mine anymore. And you don't owe me anything. Besides," he started, trying to inject some levity in their exchange, "you haven't set foot in a synagogue in twenty years. What the hell are you doing paraphrasing the Old Testament?"

That got a snicker out of Eric. "Yeah… Me, the unbeliever…" He sobered up quickly, though. "What I can't believe is that we're even having this conversation… This is unreal."

Vaughn smirked briefly, the mirth never reaching his troubled eyes. "Go home, Eric. She's probably waiting for you right now."

Weiss looked up, uncertain. "How can you be ok with this? And don't tell me she's not yours anymore, 'cause I know better…"

"She's not!" Vaughn protested, getting a little angry at his friend's insistence. "Look, if you're not sure about how you feel, then don't go. But don't put the blame on me because you don't have the guts to go through with it." He lowered his voice. "A minute ago, when I understood what was happening, I was thinking back to the times I've seen the two of you together lately… Look, she's going to move on anyway. She already has! And…" He tried to ignore the constriction in his throat. "…I'd prefer it be with someone I respect and trust rather than someone I don't." He finished, looking down at his shoes as his emotions caught up with him.

As Weiss stayed silent, he added: "Go. I'll be fine. Really. I have another life now. I could never have destroyed that, all of our hopes, to make room for a ghost from my past. No matter how painful…" His voice choked on the words. "I'm not gonna lie to you. Every day, I wish I could go back. Every day. But," he finished with renewed energy, "that time has come and gone. Come on, go home. She won't sleep until you get there… You know that."

"Neither will I." Weiss whispered, looking at Vaughn with emotion. He got up, closed the distance between them and briefly pressed Mike in a heartfelt hug. He stood back, not knowing what to do with his hands. "I'm sorry, Mike. I really am." He said in a choked-up voice.

"Just… Don't hurt her, or I'd have to kill you, ok?" Vaughn looked down, not completely sure his sentence didn't hold some truth.

"Never even crossed my mind."

"I know…" Vaughn reassured him.

Weiss quickly gathered his keys and badge, and with one last look of profound gratitude to his friend, he headed back to the parking lot and home.

.*.*.

.*.*.

.*.*.

Sydney had barely left the Ops Center when she was dialing #2 on her cell. One. Two. Three rings. "Hey, this is Eric's artificial brain. The shortest messages are the sweetest! You know the drill." Beeeep. "Hey Weiss, it's me. I've just come back. I'm heading home right now. I'll drop by in a few… if that's ok." She hesitated, uncertain she would still be welcome to drop by any time as she had been just last week. "Um… I'll see you then." And she hung up.

It had been 7 days since the trip back from Vienna, but it felt like a century had passed. A testing time of reflection, longing, and undefined hopes that troubled her so much that she'd hardly slept more than an hour a day.

Back at the Ops Center, Vaughn had insisted he should drive her home since she was so tired, but she'd found a pretext to sneak out on him. No need to complicate things any further.

Over the past week, she'd come to terms, excruciating as it was, with the fact that her feelings for Vaughn had slowly mutated into a profound fondness mixed with regret and sorrow. She'd talked to him about it. A little. It wasn't easy. Even though her feelings weren't as intense anymore, his proximity always elated a twinge of the old desire and love. She wasn't sure that would ever disappear. And in a way, she didn't want it to.

Despite how things had turned out, Vaughn was, after all, the first man she'd truly loved with all her being. She'd had loves and lovers before, but none, not even her relation with Danny, had reached the level of passion she had felt for Michael.

Was it because they'd had to hide for so long, or maybe because of the danger, the excitement, and the very fact that, for the first time, she didn't have to lie about who she was? It could have been the way his green eyes reached into her soul, or the infinite care, respect, and trust he had shown her. Perhaps it was the many times he had gone to extremes to save her life. Maybe it had just been fate.

Whatever the cause, she knew Vaughn would always have the power to make her weak in the knees with one look. He would always be the one person who could pick up the phone and she'd be there to help before the conversation was over. Even the anger she had felt after she discovered he was married couldn't destroy the unique connection they shared. And from her conversations with him over the past week, she could tell he felt the same tug towards her.

She smiled, her eyes slightly misty as she thought back to the heart-to-heart she and Vaughn had had, one night of shared insomnia. It had been sweet, and quite tearful as they mourned the loss of their love.

That night was the one when Sydney finally realized the two most important things of her life so far: love comes under many different guises; and when it presents itself, you must have the courage to recognize it, the will to nourish it with all your soul and the faith to hope it'll last enough to be remembered with joy and not sorrow.

As she approached her building, she thought back to the long hours she had spent staring out into the darkness of the Algerian cave surrounding her. Images of her old life would replay before her tired eyes: happiness, pain, violence, love, sadness, faces, familiar or not. It was like a kaleidoscopic merry-go-round.

In the end, exhausted and depressed, she would doze off for an hour, sometimes two. It was then that the images finally stopped their dance and a few trusted faces would emerge: her father, her mom sometimes, Vaughn looking like he had when he was her handler, Will, Francie, and Weiss.

A couple of nights passed before she noticed that Eric had somehow made it into this very select group that constituted her only family. Since Vienna, a fundamental change had taken place in their relationship. It had been growing steadily for a few weeks, and in a way, for a few months before that. And it had culminated in the instant when the intense look of desire on his usually relaxed features proved they'd crossed the fine line they'd carefully stayed away from in the weeks before.

After this epiphany, the last few nights in the Atlas Mountains went by a little easier. Fatigue had a way of clearing out anything non-essential. The images became that of shared moments, of the gentle manner in which Eric had slowly chipped away at her loneliness, and his strong presence when she was at her lowest…

Her insomnia had turned to daydreams where she would smile in the dark, as she relived scenes where she'd noticed the warm way in which he looked at her. In retrospect, she even remembered several occasions where she'd had to suppress a shiver born from his staring at her, or the sensation of his hand on her arm or at the small of her back. She'd attributed it to her lack of human contact then. Denial was a beautiful thing.

No possible denial now: this was her moment of truth. And the truth was that she was inching her way to being smitten over her new partner. She couldn't use the "L" word just yet. But she wouldn't discount using it in the future.

When her exhausted mind would finally give into a few minutes of dreamless rest, it was always on Eric's shoulder she imagined her head resting. At times, she could have sworn she felt his fingers softly caressing her hair as they did whenever she slept in his arms. He didn't know she was aware of it. She'd been careful not to let on that she would sometimes wake up enough to realize what was happening around her. He'd have stopped, and she didn't wanted him to. To her, that simple gesture showed such a pure expression of selfless caring that it sometimes brought tears to her eyes. Harmony with nothing to mar its perfection...

Sydney parked in the lot behind their small building and got out of the car. Swiftly, she walked into the lobby and took the stairs up, too impatient to wait for the elevator. Two stories higher, she emerged in their hallway, anxious to reach the other end and knock on Eric's door.

When she got there, she paused, hesitant to find out how she would be received after their ill-timed separation, a week ago. Breathing deeply, she raised her hand and knocked. Knocked again.

No answer.

There was no light under the door. No sounds coming through. She hadn't spotted his car earlier.

He wasn't home.

Slowly, she turned back and headed to her apartment, all the while wondering why he had left the office early, as she'd been told, if it wasn't to come home and prepare one of their evenings. Another explanation was that he'd decided they should keep their distance after all, and that's what he was doing.

Worry etched on her forehead, she turned the key to unlock her place, and quietly closed the wood panel behind her slightly hunched-over form.

.

tbc

.

* * *

Next time, in Part 10, the conclusion of The Sleep of the Just: **Rapid Eye Movement**

"I had a dream that you slept through your entire life, only to wake up and declare there was nothing as beautiful as reality..."

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**Now is the time to leave feedback. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, here we are... The conclusion of Sleep of the Just. I enjoyed writing this story immensely. I loved sharing it with SWeiss fans out there the first time around, and I had a great time sharing it with you. My only regret is that I haven't heard from you (not overly surprising since I'm publishing this long after Alias is over, but still a little bit disappointing because I so love to hear how you guys "saw" the story and answer comments.) Maybe since this is the last installment, you will leave me a few words to let me know how you liked this story?**

**Whether you want to share some feedback or not, I want to thank you for reading. I hope I did justice to Syd and Eric. I wanted them to find together the happiness that is so elusive to them when they are apart. **

**FYI, I started on a sequel to the Sleep of the Just, called Take Your Time. It's not published yet, but I hope to start doing that in not too long. Meanwhile, I will be publishing other stories, short and long, that need archiving.**

**I hope I'll see you around...**

* * *

**Part 10: Rapid Eye Movement**

* * *

.

Back in her apartment, Sydney dropped her bag, jacket, and keys on the sofa's armrest. Out of habit, she checked the accumulated mail on the kitchen counter. Another one of the many ways Eric, who'd collected it, brought some order to her chaotic life.

Sydney filled the kettle and set it on the stove, turning the burner on. While she waited for the water to boil, she sifted absentmindedly through bills and junk, only stopping to open a belated Christmas card. There was no return address, and only a few words written in a hand she knew well.

.

"I had a dream that you slept through your entire life, only to wake up and declare there was nothing as beautiful as reality.

In Chinese medicine, they say the body regenerates during sleep through the strength of the earth and the breath of the sky. That's swell, but you still have to wake up to enjoy the benefits.

Life is more beautiful with the idea of you awake to the world. Take care of yourself.

Love

W."

.

The kettle whistled. Sydney took it away from the burner and turned the dial off. She grabbed a mug and a teabag, and poured the boiling liquid. Her mug in one hand, Will's card in the other, she walked to her sofa and sat down. As she sipped the hot beverage, her eye caught a passage: "…the idea of you awake to the world…" She tried to swallow the emotions that were mounting in her throat.

Even without contact, hundreds of miles apart and years without seeing each other, Will walked by her side in spirit. Somehow, he followed her struggles. As only a true friend would, he sensed it was time to make his presence known again and show support. "Will…" She murmured, tears pooling in her eyes. "I miss you…" She followed his handwriting with her left index while a stray drop fell from her eyes onto the card's edge, splitting its circle in two.

Eventually, she tore her eyes away from the words. She took a long sip of her tea, staring at the fire place she had yet to use.

Will was right, more so than he could probably imagine, she reflected. Since she came back, she'd had the impression she was living in an alternate reality that would soon vanish. As time had passed and this fantasy had built on itself to become her new real world, she'd ignored it. She'd remained in the past she had lost. Asleep to the world around her; removed from feelings and things; absent in her mind. And yet, to those around her, she'd been real. In their eyes, she'd existed.

This couldn't go on.

Then and there, Sydney decided it was time her past remained precisely there, and her current life became the center of her world. The real world. No more dragging her feet through a universe she didn't understand. No more ignoring the facts.

And the facts were this: she'd loved and lost. She'd mourned and, now, she was healing thanks to the care of someone who had stood by her even when she didn't recognize it. She didn't know where it would lead her, but everything in her screamed it was the path she had to take.

Awake to the world. With new determination, Sydney stood up. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed #4.

"Marshall"

"Hey Marshall, it's Sydney."

"Hey Sydney, how is it going? I heard you're back so it must be going fine, 'cause you'd still be back there if no… So, anyway, what can I do for you?"

Sydney couldn't stop the fond giggle that escaped her lips at the familiar sound of Marshall's babbling. "Marshall, I need to get in contact with Agent Weiss. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"He's not answering his phone?"

"No luck there." Syd admitted sheepishly.

"Okaaaayyyy…" Sydney heard the sound of keyboard keys being pounded on. "According to the feedback from the Comm Monitoring Systems, his phone is located in his home right now…"

Sydney sighed. "He's not there. He must have forgotten it. Any suggestion?"

"Well… I could check if he's in the Center. Hold on…" More keystrokes. "Bingo! Came in at 7:30pm… Oh, but he left again half an hour later… Sorry Syd, that's all I have".

"That's fine, Marshall. Thanks. I'll try and catch him later. Have a nice weekend."

"You too, Sydney. It's… nice to hear you're back and well, alive, you know…"

Sydney laughed softly. Even with Weiss' advice, Marshall still had a long way before smooth talking became second nature. "Bye Marshall," she said warmly, and she hung up.

Eric had gone back to the Ops Center in a hurry, it seemed, since he'd forgotten his phone. He must have needed something from his office. He'd probably be home any time now.

A sudden fever seized Sydney. She looked around her at the bare walls, the clinical cleanliness of the tables and counters, the lack of warmth and cushions, colors and throws. For a brief moment, she felt a twinge of sorrow as she thought back to the time when Francie would take care of making life as beautiful as in a Better Homes and Gardens issue.

A couple of ideas in mind, she headed to her bedroom. In the lower drawer of her closet, she found a dark red pashmina and a multicolored throw she'd gotten when she moved in, but never used.

Back in the living-room, she draped the throw over the couch's back and the red shawl across the cold glass of the coffee table, holding it down with a couple of heavy books. She took a step back. It wasn't much, but it was enough to break the monotony of browns and beiges that dominated the room.

Something was missing though. She walked to the kitchen. Under the sink, she found a bunch of tea light candles. She took the small bag to the living-room, along with a stack of mug plates and a pack of matches. Keenly, she lit up the candles and placed them around the room: a couple on the coffee table; five across the mantle piece; a few more in front of the fireplace in lieu of an actual fire.

When she was done, she looked around. The combination of small lights warmed the otherwise subdued and rather gloomy atmosphere. The room was suffused with a golden hue that added comfort and intimacy. She smiled, happy to feel like she was home at last. A real, warm, honest to goodness home. It was still rudimentary and would need much improvement in the future. But it was her home nonetheless.

Lost in the middle of her present delight, she jumped at the sudden shrill of the bell ringing.

In a second, her satisfaction melted and a lump of apprehension grew in the pit of her stomach. A quick look through the peep hole confirmed her suspicion. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, shiny smile firmly in place.

"Heyyy…" She grinned a little too brightly, ready for a hug but unable to read if Weiss would agree to it.

Weiss, who had been observing the ground intently before Sydney opened the door, looked up surprised at her cheery tone. A quick glance above her shoulder told him something was up. The place looked different. He noticed the host of candles, the red cloth on the coffee table. He glanced back down at her. Her smile was fading to a sheepish expression he didn't recall seeing on her. At least, not when she was looking at him. Time to break the silence before she retreated completely in her shell.

"Hey… Uh…" Wow… That was a dismal lack of preparation. Rushing back here without a plan? Maybe not the best idea ever… He looked at the room again, a sudden doubt gnawing at him. "Uh, am I interrupting something?" He asked with a nod in the direction of the candles behind her.

Sydney glanced over her shoulder and back at him. "Oh, that? No, I just felt like decorating the place a little. Livening it up, you know. I don't want anymore beige in my life." She said with a modest smile.

He observed her for a second, but decided not to press her for more information while standing in the hallway. "So, they kicked you out of all the harems in North Africa and sent you back, huh?" He winced at the lame joke, only taking heart in the fact that his voice hadn't wavered.

She chuckled nervously. "Yeah. Seems I wasn't the type to be tied down and kept under wraps."

"Whoever said that? I'm sure you'd look scrumptious with silk ropes binding your wrists…" He stopped cold as he saw all color leave Syd's face. What the hell was wrong with him? "Um… Sorry, that sounded a lot funnier in my head… Um, will you still let me in? Promise I'll behave."

Syd struggled to concentrate on something other than the sudden heat that had spread from some undetermined spot in her belly. "Yeah, come in," she offered with a discreet smile, moving out of the way so he could get inside, and closing the door on the both of them. For the first time, as he passed her, Sydney consciously registered the strength that emanated from Eric's large frame and broad shoulders. As he turned back to her, a curious look in his eyes, she caught herself staring at the expanse of his chest. The soft, reassuring, welcoming…

And before she could realize it, she was against him, her left cheek flush above the spot where his heart could be faintly heard. Despite her sudden move, her hands had found their way under his jacket and around to his back, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.

Completely taken by surprise, Weiss could do nothing but close his arms around the most precious bundle he'd ever held. Ok, she wanted to hug. He could do that. He was good at hugging back. But then she spoke and all his cool demeanor came undone in an instant.

"… Eric…"

That was all she said. Yet the heartfelt way in which she'd breathed his name out said so much more. He couldn't help but respond by holding her even closer and burying his face in her hair. He breathed in the citrusy sweetness that was hidden there, lost in the assault of sensations her slender body pressed against his arose in him.

Sydney wasn't faring any better. Not only had she lost all control over her body's decisions to move one way or another, she'd also been battling the biggest case of butterflies in the stomach since her first crush in high school. Somehow, she was unsure of herself, afraid that Eric might have decided he didn't want this after all.

"You're here…" She whispered, a few tears of relief rolling down her cheeks. "I thought for a moment… Last week… Maybe I'd lost you. I thought…"

He interrupted her softly. "Shhshh, it's ok… slow down… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Gently, he pulled away so he could look at her. With infinite care, he brought his large hands to frame her tense face. Slowly, his thumbs wiped away the wet paths on her cheeks. Eyes closed, lips parted, Sydney sighed at the warm caress. "Syd, look at me."

A little startled, Sydney opened her eyes still bright with tears, a questioning look on her face. Weiss had to shake himself from the enthralling effect her gaze had on him. There were certain things that needed saying first.

"Syd…" He paused, swallowing hard under the anxiety of the moment. This was much worse than losing a million dollars in Vegas, and he should know since he'd actually done that once, back in his wild undercover days as a croupier.

Trying to help him, Sydney started talking. "It's ok…"

"No. Please, Syd, let me. I need to say this." He drew a quick breath, praying that he wasn't about to destroy everything that seemed to be shaping up in his arms since he'd crossed the threshold of her apartment. "Look Syd, I know you'll whack me for doing this, but… I need to be sure." He looked directly at her. "I saw Mike earlier." She hadn't flinched… too much. That's was a good sign, right? He forged on again, despite his better judgment that was telling him to just take what she so obviously wanted to give him and run with it. "We talked a little and he explained that you guys…" He sighed, frustrated. "Syd, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that things are really over with him…"

Her right hand went up of its own accord and lightly covered his mouth to shush him.

So that was what had bothered him since he came in… She hadn't imagined his tentative attitude and the reticence with which he had first hugged her.

Sydney took a deep breath. Her eyes focused on her fingertips, she started tracing his lips. A smile appeared on her face as she felt the shaky breath Eric released under her touch. Encouraged that he wasn't stopping her, she reached up and replaced her fingers with a light kiss. He didn't pull away, but he didn't respond either.

She drew back, her lips still burning from the contact with his.

With clear eyes where all tears and sorrows had run their course, she looked right back at him. "I'd be lying if I told you that, Eric. He was a big part of my life. 'Things' will never be entirely over. But as far as my feelings for him," she pressed on before worry could cloud his gaze, "yes, they're not what they used to be. They haven't been for quite a while, I think. It just took me a little long to understand it. And…" She trailed as her hand came up again to caress the rough stubble on his left cheek. "…It took me even longer to understand where my feelings had moved on to. Weiss… Eric… I…"

But the rest of her words got lost as he tilted her chin up and planted a hungry kiss on her luscious lips. It was all improvised and unruly at first. Soon though, he slowed down and kissed her soulfully, pouring all the love he hadn't yet professed into the sensual movements of his mouth and the patient taunting of his tongue asking entrance.

A low moan rose from Sydney's throat under the sweet assault. Soon, she allowed Eric in while she explored the new, red hot sensation of being kissed with all the power and adoration he was capable of.

Lost in the moment, Weiss had forgotten about the rest of the world. He had no idea how long they'd been lip-locked to each other, moaning and sighing like teenagers on a first date, hands caressing and exploring always a little further. God, he must have died and gone to heaven or something close to it. Sydney. Sydney Bristow was kissing him, kissing him feverishly, kissing him into dizziness. Coming to his senses for few seconds, he nudged her to the nearby sofa and the both of them collapsed into the welcoming cushions. Instantly, his lips found hers again, as he drank in the passion Syd put into kissing him back.

A while later, when slowing down was the last resort before dying of asphyxiation, a breathless Eric grinned at an equally breathless and slow-smiling Sydney. Through her daze, she could see the light of excitement and anticipation that dilated his pupils.

Mesmerized by the sight of her flushed skin, Eric brought his right hand up to caress Sydney's face and hair, a profound look of love brightening his brown eyes.

At the sensation, Sydney sighed, her eyelids dropping of their own volition. "We should have done this a long time ago…" She whispered, her voice slightly halting.

Eric chuckled. "So impatient all of a sudden… You know, I would've tried. Only you'd probably have knocked me on my butt for it…" Sydney giggled softly. "But I agree, we should have tested the resilience of this couch a long time ago…"

And he started to tickle her, drawing out sharp laughs and cries from her. Encouraged, he playfully pushed her back until her head found a place on the armrest and his body covered hers.

As if by design, both of them stopped their antics. They stared at each other with intensity, fascinated by the sight of each other's desire. "Sydney," Eric said, his expression becoming very serious as he looked at her flushed, adorable face, "it's not too late. You can change your mind. We don't have to do anything. We don't even have to exist if you think this is a mistake." He sighed, trying to find the courage to say what his conscience dictated. "Syd, I want you to understand… As much as I want this right now, you only have to say the word and none of this ever happened."

He scrutinized her features while he spoke, looking for any indication that she might regret what was happening. Even though it would kill him, he meant what he said. One word, and it would all be over before it had even started… He held his breath as that thought made its way through his desire-impaired mind.

I can't believe I never really saw him for who he was until now… Sydney reflected, her expression softening at his honesty and thoughtfulness. Stop? God no, she didn't want to stop, absolutely not. If she regretted something, it was how blind she had been during the past few months of their friendship. How hard it must have been for him to harbor such deep feelings for her, all the while knowing she was pining for another man and completely ignoring the fact that he, too, was of the male variety. All the nights when she fell asleep in his arms, all the times she let herself cry on his shoulder…

"…I think I'm falling in love with you." She blurted out, unable to contain her feelings any longer at the sight of the uncertainty veiling his brown gaze. She had to show him that she meant this, her instinct whispered. A gesture that she chose to give herself to him. Slowly, she brought her hands up to the first button of her black blouse and undid it. As her fingers reached for the second button, she saw Eric's eyes darkened noticeably.

"I think I've been falling in love with you for a long time. I just didn't understand it until now."

He tried to speak, but she cut him off. "No, please, my turn to say something. I want to tell you... It's taken me a long time to see what a wonderful, caring man you are. But now that I've finally become aware…" She paused and looked deeply into the brown pools of his eyes. "…I don't ever want to look back."

At the sight of button number 3 coming undone, Eric let out a low rumble.

Her right hand reached for his left one and brought it to the fourth button of her blouse. Her gaze bore into his, her voice a sensual whisper. "You gave me back my peace of mind. I love being with you, laughing with you, falling asleep in your arms… I love how you make me feel about myself. I don't think I could go on without you…" She laughed a bitter, wet laugh. "I almost didn't make it through a week without you. I want your arms around me. I want to feel your hands caressing my hair that way that you do. I want…" She paused again, holding her breath, then releasing it to give substance to what she had to say. "… I want you."

All the while, Eric's fingers were unbuttoning number 4 and 5, the growing hunger in his eyes peaking with her last words. He bent down and captured her lips. Between deep kisses, he interspaced a few out-of-breath words. "…ahhh God, Sydney, I swear, you're gonna have to pinch me… Syd… Syd… 'want you… 'love you…"

The next couple of hours yielded very little dialogue, but through the fog of his desire, Weiss didn't think that obstructed communication at all.

When both their passions were satiated, they moved to her bedroom, roughhousing and laughing all the way. They finally collapsed on the bed, scooting under the covers after a few more kisses.

For a moment, they exchanged loving glances, captivated by the discovery of one another. Slowly, Sydney smiled, her eyes half-closed from sleepiness. "Lend me your shoulder?" She asked.

A slow grin gaining his tired, but contented features, Eric pulled Sydney up against him, letting out a sigh at the feel of her silky skin caressing his along the way. "That and the rest of me. You get the complete package, with options and free shipping." He bent down a little to kiss her hair. Soon, he felt her relaxing in his hold. "Just don't send me back in 30 days…" He murmured, thinking she was already in dreamland.

He was surprised when he heard her sleepy voice answering back. " 'm a very careful shopper… Never sent anything back…"

And with that, her breathing evened out and she was immediately sound asleep, her mind free of all fears and misgivings now that she had found her new home.

For a moment longer, Eric stared at the ceiling, his heart oscillating between ultimate contentment and abysmal fear that all of this would disappear the moment the incredibly lovely, tender, passionate woman in his arms would wake up and realize her mistake.

He closed his eyes at last, trying his damnedest to ignore the demons laying in wake.

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Fin

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**Final thanks**

... to JJ. Abrams for giving me a new series to obsess over. Kudos to all the actors: Victor Garber, best SpyDaddy ever, Ron Rifkin, the bad guy we love to hate, Michael Vartan, who had me at "Never Been Kissed", Lena Olin, for an awesome portrayal, Bradley Cooper, qui parle français ;-) (yeah, I know, so does Vartan, but where's the merit if you learned it "au biberon"? ;-D ), Merrin, Kevin, the music guy, the costumes, make-up and incredible wigs, the cinematography, gosh there's just no way to thank everyone for their fantastic job and the pleasure of watching and re-watching superior quality TV work (I say this despite S3 mishaps.)

... to these SD-1 writers for inspiring me to write a SWeiss fic: Imperfectly (How It Happened), Em Meredith (Steamy Conversation/Turning Tide,) and MollyTM (Tongue Tied Lightening,) and last, but not least, RJ Anderson who almost shamed me into not publishing this fic after I read her fantabulous "What You Never Knew You Wanted" (when the writer in me grows up, I wanna write THAT story.)

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**If you've come this far, why not leave a little souvenir in the feedback section? Thank you for reading and reviewing!**


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